


Mors Certa, Hora Incerta

by ABSedarian



Series: Thirty Worlds (AU Challenge) [23]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, AU: War, Cameos, Challenge on Infinite Earths, Emma is a war correspondent, F/F, Henry is there but his name is not Mills, Hurt/Comfort, Period-Typical Racism, Regina is a doctor, Sexism, bed sharing, no graphic violence, people die - but it's war so what do you expect, rating may change later, salty language, some original characters - Freeform, the story is set in the Vietnam War, there might be some angst at some point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-01-08 17:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12259005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABSedarian/pseuds/ABSedarian
Summary: AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite EarthsPart 23: War AULt. Col. Regina Mills is the first woman to lead an Army hospital in Vietnam during the war. She's hard-working, conscientious, and treats both soldiers and the local population as best she can under the circumstances. She also gets called a nurse far too often for her liking.Emma Swan is a war correspondent embedded with a unit in the mountains. After an ambush, Emma ends up in Regina's hospital.This turned into a long-ish piece with a lot more plot than I anticipated, so I decided to post it in parts instead of an epic one-shot. Hope that's okay. ;-)Rating has been changed to M for Chapter 11.





	1. Just a scratch

**Author's Note:**

> The war in Vietnam is a backdrop in this story but not everything is entirely made up: there _were_ female war correspondents in Vietnam, even though none of them were embedded as far as I know. There also were female surgeons, and one of them even led a hospital (which is how I got the idea for the story). 
> 
> I don't know any Vietnamese, and what little I put into the story I got from a friend. Any mistakes are my own, though.

Regina Mills jerked awake, already sitting up before her brain could even consciously register the ringing of the phone on her desk or the hurried footsteps and frantic voices outside her office. Knowing that could only mean one thing, she tiredly rose from her cot and stumbled over to her desk through the dark room, navigating by the strip of light that came through the gap under her door. She’d taken to sleeping in her office instead of the quarters assigned to her because it just made things easier.

“Mills,” she croaked into the phone, wondering if the person on the other side could even make out the word. Regina barely could. 

“Good evening, Lt. Col. Mills,” a wide-awake voice greeted her, a teasing lilt audible even over the crappy phone line.

_Evening?_ Regina turned on her desk lamp and checked the clock on the wall. 4:34pm. _Well, she had gotten almost two hours of sleep, which was more than she’d had in the three days before. Or was it four?_ The days were beginning to run into each other and sleep deprivation wasn’t helping matters. “It’s a little early to make it evening, Navarro,” she said around a yawn. “And there’s no way you’re calling with something that might make it a _good_ evening.”

“Afraid not,” Nurse Marian Navarro confirmed somberly. “We have a chopper coming in. A patrol was caught in an ambush in the mountains.”

That managed to wake Regina up. “How many? What kind of injuries?” 

“No information on that but apparently it took forever to get the casualties out,” the nurse replied. “Everyone’s getting ready as we speak.” She paused. “I’ll have coffee waiting for you.”

“See you in five.” Regina hung up the phone and let her head crash onto the desk with a groan. It had been like this ever since she arrived at the Army Hospital thirteen months earlier. Too many young men coming in, shot up or maimed by mines or grenades; doctors and nurses working on little or no sleep, trying to save limbs and lives, mostly running on fumes and sheer will and determination. Most of them didn’t make it more than a year, and many only held out for six months before succumbing to the constant pressure. 

Regina shook off those thoughts and stood, straightening her uniform as much as possible. A quick trip to the en-suite and she was ready to face the world — or at least as ready as she could be while running on empty.

Marian wordlessly handed her a steaming mug of coffee when she entered the small surgical wing of the hospital. Most of the hospital was taken up by patient wards, which served both U.S. soldiers as well as the local population — peasants from the surrounding villages, mostly women and children — many of whom with access to professional medical care for the first time in their lives. 

“Thank you,” Regina mumbled, blowing on the coffee before taking her first sip. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Marian smiled at the woman who was both her superior officer as well as her closest friend. They’d known each other for years, had served together and worked together before, and had kept in contact even if they were working half a world apart. “Locke and Jones are setting up the triage area—“

Regina rolled her eyes at the mention of the two surgeons under her command, both new arrivals in Vietnam. They had arrived two months before and both had turned out to be insufferable sexists who had a hard time following her orders, and who chafed at having to serve under a woman. They had both been much more interested in sleeping with her than doing what she told them, at least until Regina had made it clear that she wasn’t interested. Repeatedly. And still Jones sniffed around Regina most days, openly leering and making lewd comments, but she ignored him. 

“I don’t know why you don’t slap them upside the head all day every day,” Marian commented on the snarl on Regina’s face. “It’s not like they’re all that great at their jobs either. It’s almost as if they’re not taking this seriously.”

“For all the good that would do me,” Regina shrugged. “I’m the first woman to head an army hospital … I need to appear capable of dealing with the job, with all the pressure they can heap on me or I might be the last. Unfortunately, that includes handling jerks dressed in scrubs without punching them in the face or whining to the brass.”

“Urgh, I hate these gung-ho yippie-this-is-my-first-field-hospital guys.” Marian growled a little. “At least the patients love having you as their doctor.”

Regina hummed into her coffee. “Once they stop mistaking me for a nurse, you mean.”

Marian looked like she wanted to say something else when they heard the unmistakable sound of choppers overhead. Regina set her coffee down after one last gulp and ran outside, followed by her team who seemed to stream out of every possible door. Regina looked around, making eye contact with almost every tired face, nodding encouragingly, before turning her eyes to the sky.

They all watched as two Hueys appeared in the sky, and set down on the designated landing pads in front of the hospital. The doors were flying open even before the rotors were shut off, and men and stretchers came pouring out of them like lava.

Of course that was the moment the daily downpour started.

"Everybody inside as fast as you can! Get the wounded out of the rain stat!" Regina yelled, directing the medics from the Hueys as well as her own personnel, getting everyone inside and out of the elements quickly. Even from just the first glances at the medics and soldiers hurrying past her and into the hospital she could see that the unit was pretty banged up, and from the stillness of two of the soldiers on their stretchers, she assumed that not all of them had made it to the hospital alive.

When all the wounded had been taken inside and her own personnel has disappeared into the hospital with them, Regina took one last look back over her shoulder only to see a straggler slowly getting out of one of the Hueys, holding his side and moving carefully. Regina turned quickly, ready to dash through the rain to help but stopped short when she got a closer look at the slowly approaching figure. She blinked, once, twice, not sure if the heavy rain was distorting her vision or if she was simply too tired and seeing things.

But no, the figure wasn’t a soldier at all. It was a woman with long blonde hair in a messy ponytail, camera hanging around her neck, covered as much as possible by the vest the woman was wearing to protect it against the rain. Mud was splattered liberally over her clothes, and there was a large dark stain covering her left side, but the woman held up a hand for Regina to signal that she was okay. “Stay back,” she called out, barely audible over the rain. “No need for you to get wet.”

"Who are you?" Regina asked once the woman was close enough, and it came out more bluntly than she planned. She saw the woman taking a breath and took the last few steps to help her out of the rain, no matter what. “Is any of that blood yours? Are you injured?" 

The woman stopped, leaning heavily against one of the wooden beams lining the porch. Now that Regina could see her properly, she realized that she was stunning, and looked to be around Regina's age. 

"I'm fine,” were the first words out of the blonde’s mouth, scratchy and tired, and Regina was pretty sure it was a lie from the way her jaw was clenched tightly and her lips were pressed together. "Emma Swan," the woman introduced herself. " _The Chronicle._ I've been staying with that unit for the past month or so."

Regina did her level best to keep her face neutral and not let her surprise show. She’d heard that the Pentagon had started to allow reporters a much closer look by embedding them with several select units, but they were few, and Regina would bet that there weren’t too many women. And as far as she knew, the units with reporters were supposed to stay out of actual combat as much as possible.

Apparently, Emma Swan still managed to read something in her face. "Yeah, I know," she smirked self-deprecatingly, and shrugged for good measure, wincing at even that slight move. "Unusual ... but that's my life, I guess." She straightened. "Anyway," she said casually, pointing at the door, "shouldn't you be in there helping the doctors with the wounded?"

Regina had to bite her tongue so as not to say what threatened to come out first. "There are two surgeons and a number of nurses in there currently doing triage and helping the soldiers," she snarled after a deep breath. "They don't need me to hold their hands." _At least most of them don't._ Inside, she was itching to get into the fray, to help, to save lives, but she bristled at the reporter's words — and the implication in them — nonetheless. "Now, _once_ _again_ , are you injured?” She pointed at the large dark stain on the vest. “Is any of that yours?"

“I’m fine … mostly.” Emma Swan shook her head. “Just a scratch, nothing I can't take care of myself," she replied firmly. "But I could use a first aid kit and a place to drop my gear. And I'd kill for a drink."

Regina could feel Emma's eyes on her, could feel the gaze roaming over her body, and there was a trace of heat that had nothing to do with the tropical air around them. She looked at the reporter and when their eyes met, Regina felt her heart skip a beat at the intensity of the gaze. For a second it looked like Emma might say something else, but all that came out was a long breath and a sigh. Before Regina could wonder at the slight twinge of disappointment she was feeling at that, she tore herself away from the eyes that hadn't left hers in what felt like minutes. 

“I have to go inside,” Regina breathed. “I’ll have someone help you.” She itched to take a look at the wound, especially if all of that blood was Miss Swan’s but as long as she was walking and talking there were other people inside the hospital who needed her more. Regina cleared her throat and called over one of the Vietnamese orderlies waiting nearby. ”Please take Miss Swan to my office, Chị Hồng. Show her where the first aid kit is ... and please bring her some water." 

"Vâng, Colonel Doctor," the orderly replied with a small bow.

“Cảm ôn, Chị Hồng.” Regina nodded and turned to head inside, missing the way Emma Swan's face scrunched up in surprise, mixed with a healthy dose of mortification at the title the orderly used. 

_Way to make assumptions, Swan. She’s not just some hot little nurse. Damn._ Her eyes followed Regina until the other woman was out of view before focusing on the small woman in front of her, waiting patiently. "She's a doctor, huh?" she mumbled, mostly to herself.

“Doctor Mills, yes," the Vietnamese woman, Mrs. Hồng, replied. "Good woman, treats everyone the same, soldier or peasant."

"But she _is_ with the Army, right?"

"Yes, yes," came the instant confirmation, even as Emma was bustled inside as fast as she could walk in her state, down a corridor, and up a flight of stairs. They stopped in front of a brown wooden door. “Colonel Doctor Mills is boss here at hospital.” She sounded proud.

_Oh, shit,_ Emma thought. _Definitely not a nurse then._

Mrs. Hồng opened the door and allowed Emma inside, and as soon as Emma saw the desk chair and the mattress in the corner, she groaned in relief, her entire body suddenly feeling every ounce of weariness. Mrs. Hồng showed her the bathroom and handed her a first aid kit, then ran out, only to come back moments later with a carafe filled to the brim with water. Then she gave Emma a smile and left, quietly closing the door behind herself.

As soon as she was alone, the adrenaline that had kept her upright left Emma in a rush. She eyed the bathroom door, the urge to toss her clothes and take a long, hot shower a strong one, but then she just sank gracelessly into the chair behind the large desk. "Just for a minute," she muttered to herself as she pulled the camera off her neck and put it on the desk, wincing as the movement pulled at her side. 

She made a mental note to put some kind of bandage on what she suspected by now might be more than just the scratch she had assumed it was. She smirked tiredly as her thoughts drifted to the beautiful doctor who would probably insist on taking a closer look at the wound … and maybe more — _if_ she managed to forgive Emma for her stupidity. _There’s always the blood loss to blame_ , Emma decided with a grin before leaning her head back against the chair, closing her eyes for just a moment until she could bring herself to stand up and get a shower.

She was asleep in two seconds flat.

 

** ****** **

 

Regina took a deep breath, and then another for good measure. As expected, the day and evening had been hard, especially emotionally — she had never liked losing patients, and she had lost two more on top of the two who had been DOA. The others had survived, but some were still critical. Some had lost limbs and for all of them, this war was over.

She thought back to the conversation she had just had with one of the young men who had been brought in. At 22, he was now the most senior of the men who were still alive — their commanding officer was one of the two who had been DOA — and he had been incredibly lucky to make it out with only relatively minor injuries. 

The young man, Lance Corporal Sean Thomas, had been sweet and quiet, and worried, about the men as well as Emma Swan when he told her what had happened, haltingly and his voice breaking every so often. They’d been on their regular patrol when one of them had suddenly stepped onto a mine that hadn’t been there the day before. Once they were pinned in place, scared and looking for more mines, they had found themselves surrounded by the enemy, and shot at relentlessly. 

Emma Swan had been in the middle of it, taking photos while trying to lie low, when a grenade had been tossed in her general direction. Their captain had lunged at the reporter and taken her down and away from the grenade while one of the marines had gone for the grenade to try and toss it back. He had been too late. 

After that, things had gone quiet as suddenly as the mayhem had started, and back-up had been called in. And that was how they had all ended up at Regina’s hospital.

“How’s Emma?” the young marine had asked. “I haven’t seen her here with us. Is she safe? Is she okay?”

“She’s safe,” Regina had replied. “In my office.”

“Good. She’s nice.” With a nod and a smile, Lance Corporal Thomas had fallen asleep.

Regina shook her head wearily, her mind bringing her back to the present. _What a waste of young lives this war was._ And the worst thing was that days like this — young men dying in a war they shouldn’t even be fighting — was becoming … routine. It happened all the time now. The thought stopped Regina cold just outside the door to her office. She leaned against the wall, breathing rapidly, suddenly filled with a need to run. She needed to get out of this place, away from this unnecessary killing, this decimation of young men. 

She needed to feel life, not death. But her patients needed her and that was what was important. In the end, that was what her choice always came down to.

Her hand fell against the door, just as her mind brought back the look she had thought she’d seen on the reporter’s face earlier. She might not be able to leave this hospital right now … but she might be able to feel something else, at least for a little while. A little conversation with an intelligent woman, one who wasn’t a nurse. And maybe, if what she had seen in Emma was correct, maybe there would be a little flirtation, a little distraction from the harshness of their reality. That was, Regina mused, _if_ she allowed herself to let down her guard enough to actually enjoy any of those things.

She listened at the door for a moment and stepped inside when she couldn’t hear anything — or anyone — moving. She had to suppress a smile when she saw the woman sleeping in the chair behind her desk. The smile left her face as quickly as it had appeared, however, when she saw the state she was in. Regina switched on the light and stepped closer as quietly as she could to take a look at the reporter’s side, the young marine’s words reverberating in her head. 

Emma didn’t stir, even as Regina came to a stop just inches from the chair. She leaned closer, planning to gently pull away the vest, but stopped and stared when her eyes fell on Emma’s face. In repose, she looked younger than Regina had first assumed, maybe by as much as five or six years. 

She watched, with somewhat clinical detachment, how her fingers reached out to brush a lock of blonde hair out of the beautiful face, how they then trailed, _lightly so lightly_ , over the brow and down the cheek towards the jaw. Feeling someone’s skin under her fingers this way felt good but when Regina realized what she was doing she retracted the hand, torn between guilt and bewilderment. _What on earth was going on with her?_

She turned away to let the woman rest, and to maybe catch some sleep of her own on her mat, only to be stopped by a soft voice. 

“Why’d’cha stop? ’s nice.”

Regina felt herself flushing to the roots of her hair and was glad about her complexion which didn’t make it too obvious. “I-I’m sorry, Miss Swan,” she apologized quickly. “I just wanted to … I just thought I’d …” _What? See how soft your skin is? That was entirely inappropriate!_ “I wanted to see if you were okay,” she finally got out but when she turned back around to face Emma Swan’s anger, she saw that the woman was clearly still half asleep. Well, now that Emma was aware of Regina’s presence, or at least Regina assumed she was somewhat aware, she might as well take a look at her. _Professionally, this time?,_ her brain snickered but Regina pushed it down. 

“Miss Swan.” Regina hesitantly touched her shoulder to make sure she was still awake. “Let me take a look at you.”

“I’m fine,” Emma insisted, opening her eyes and slowly sitting up a little straighter. 

“Yes, the way you just winced as you moved makes that very convincing,” Regina replied but there was very little snark in her voice. “At least allow me to take a look at the wound and clean it, and then maybe you could make use of my perfectly good shower.”

It was Emma’s turn to blush. “I totally meant to clean myself up but then I just …” She shrugged and pointed at the chair.

“Crashed … yes, I can imagine,” Regina whispered. “And I’d let you sleep but I bet you’d be a lot more comfortable without all the grime and blood, and lying down over there—“

“My, Doctor Mills,” Emma drawled. “Is that an invitation?”

Regina just shook her head with a small smile, a little charmed by Emma’s half-asleep, drawled attempt at flirting. “For you to get comfortable and letting me take care of your wound? You bet it is.”

Emma held Regina’s eyes for a long moment before swallowing and looking away. Regina could have sworn she saw something like disappointment in her eyes but the look was gone as quickly as it had appeared. She knew she should just ignore it but something made her continue. “And if you’re really fine … well, we’ll see how tired we both are. It might well be that I need to take a nap as well.”

Regina hoped that her inflection was the right mixture of vague and inviting, letting Emma know that she was not entirely uninterested, but also leaving room for plausible deniability. With the way Emma perked up at her words, however, she assumed she might have overshot her goal. “I’m going to go take that shower now,” Emma decided, suddenly sounding much more alert. “You can put a band-aid or something on that scratch after.”

“Do you need assistance?” Regina actually managed to keep the question entirely professional, which easier than expected given the worry gnawing at her over the wound she still hadn’t been allowed to see. 

Emma still waggled her eyebrows before shaking her head no. “Nah, I’m good.” She opened her pack before realizing that all it held was her equipment. “You wouldn’t have any spare clothes for me, would you?”

Regina nodded. “Go take a shower, I’ll bring you something. I hope you don’t mind scrubs.”

Emma looked Regina up and down, taking in the dark green scrubs under her white coat, making Regina feel very, very warm. “I don’t mind at all.”

Emma pulled off her vest and dropped it to the floor, kicking it for good measure when her eye fell on the blood. “Is … did Sergeant Nolan make it?” she asked, her eyes never leaving the vest.

“I’m sorry,” Regina whispered. “He was already dead when he got here as was Private Kyotake.”

“Everybody else —“

“We lost two more — Private Rodriguez and PFC Manson — but the others are going to survive,” Regina assured her quickly. “One of the men, a Lance Corporal Sean—“

“Sean Thomas, yes …”

“He asked about you, making sure you were okay,” Regina explained. “I promised him I’d take care of you.” She reached out and put a gentle hand on Emma’s shoulder. “And I fully intend to keep my promise, which means you’re going to take that shower now, _carefully_ , and then you _will_ let me take a look at your injuries.”

“Yes, General!” Emma mock-saluted with a grin.

Regina bit back a laugh. “Lt. Colonel, actually,” she countered. “But Regina will do.”

“Regina.” Emma let the name roll off her tongue. “I like it.” She walked over to the bathroom but stopped once again at the door. “By the way … I’m sorry for implying you were a nurse.”

“It’s fine,” Regina replied softly, nonetheless grateful for the words. “Happens all the time.”

“That just makes it worse though, doesn’t it?” Emma muttered as she disappeared into the bathroom. 

Regina really couldn’t disagree.

 

** ****** **

 

Emma hissed sharply when she raised her arms to pull off her shirt and realized that the coagulated blood had attached it — and worse, the tank top beneath it — firmly to the wound. With trembling fingers caused by the expectation of unavoidable pain, she opened the buttons on her shirt fully and shrugged out of it, growling a little when the cloth stuck to her side. She ripped it away as quickly as she could, teeth dug firmly into her bottom lip, but couldn't prevent the loud yelp when her tank top ripped away from the wound at the same time, reopening the gash with an explosion of pain.

"Fuck, that hurts!" she cried, dropping the shirt and pressing her hand to her side on top of the tank. She looked at the blood covering her hand just as the door opened to reveal Regina's concerned face.

"What's wro— ... oh." Regina swiftly moved towards her. "Just a scratch, huh?" she asked sardonically, her eyes moving up briefly to meet Emma's, before focusing on her side. She gently peeled away the tank top and pulled it up to take a closer look.

"It's not that bad," Emma muttered through a jaw clenched against the pain of whatever Regina was doing.

"That's a shrapnel wound, Miss Swan," Regina replied dryly. "You were incredibly lucky that it looks like it only grazed you. Another inch or two and you could very well have been one of the bodies who only made it here DOA.” She looked at her hands, then at Emma. “We need get you out of that,” she said, pointing at the tank top, “and then I need to clean that and I’m afraid you’ll need more than a few stitches.” 

Emma swallowed hard. "Nolan," she breathed, her voice barely audible.

"Pardon?" 

"It was Sergeant Nolan ... David," Emma tried again. "He pushed me out of the way of the grenade or something and ... h-he landed on top of me ... covered me." She paused for long moments. "He was hurt pretty bad and I wasn’t feeling much of anything, so I thought ... I-I th-thought it was his blood.”

There wasn’t much Regina could say to that, so she stayed quiet and simply gave Emma a warm smile. “I’m sorry,” she finally whispered when she saw a tear running down Emma’s cheek.

Emma shrugged, apparently unaware that she was crying. “I guess I’ll better take that shower now,” she rasped.

“Miss Swan,” Regina sighed, “why don’t we walk over to the hospital wing so I can take care of your wound first …”

Emma shook her head, jaw clenched but eyes pleading. “You said it needs cleaning anyway, so what is some water going to hurt? I need … I _need_ to get that blood off me. I think it’s not all mine, and it needs to … I need to …” She shrugged again, words failing her.

Regina fought the urge to pull the reporter into her arms to comfort her. “I understand,” she acquiesced against her better judgement. “Let me help you take that tank completely off, then I’m going to wait outside. I suggest you stick to cold water … it won’t be as relaxing but it’ll feel better on your side, trust me.”

She pulled the tank top over Emma’s head, careful not to jostle her side too much. Emma didn’t even wince this time, only muttering a mild “Thanks.” when she was standing in front of Regina in her utilitarian bra and cargo pants. “I’ll look better once I’m clean and not bleeding out,” she tried to joke when she felt Regina’s eyes running up and down her body.

Regina wasn’t sure she’d survive that and she almost blurted out the thought. Emma Swan was a stunningly gorgeous woman, even dirty and bleeding. “I don’t think your looks are anything you need to worry about,” she whispered, wondering if her voice sounded as hoarse and breathless as it felt working its way up her throat. “I’ll wait outside.”

“Regina.”

The plea in her voice stopped Regina short. “Yes.”

“Could you … Could you sew me up in your office? I’m not in the mood to play twenty questions with the guys … not tonight.”

Regina hesitated a moment, then nodded even as she questioned why she was making all kinds of exceptions for this particular patient. “I’ll get what I need while you get cleaned up,” she promised. “Try not to injure yourself further while I’m gone, okay?”

“Yes, General.”

Regina shook her head as she left and closed the door behind her but as soon as she was alone, a smile broke out on her face. That woman was something else, and Regina wondered just how interesting the coming days would get.

 

** ****** **

 


	2. Focus shift

Emma leaned against the ugly green tiles in the shower stall and took a deep breath as the water dribbled down her back. Her side felt like it was burning but the cold water _did_ actually help a little, just like Regina had said, and Emma tried to focus on other things than the pain. She washed her hair as thoroughly as she could without full usage of both arms, removing all the dirt and grime, then simply stood under the spray and let her thoughts run free.

Inevitably, they turned to Doctor Mills and, maybe equally inevitably, to the moment when she had woken up and had opened her eyes to the view of this extraordinarily beautiful woman leaning so close to her. Close enough to kiss, and for that split second between sleeping and waking, Emma had actually thought Regina would go for it, and she had been quite disappointed when it hadn’t happened. 

She also had been excited, and very, very interested. She hadn’t been with a woman in months, and it had been far longer than that since she’d seen someone _this_ beautiful, someone she had been instantly attracted to. She had even forgotten where she was and what had happened for that moment before reality had crashed back in. The interest and the attraction, however, had most definitely remained.

“Cool your jets, Swan,” she hissed into the water streaming down her face, sputtering a little as a result. The chance that Regina felt the same inclination towards women was slim to none, and even if she did — _and_ found Emma attractive as well — that didn’t mean that she would want to act on it. Besides, right now she probably only saw Emma as a patient, and one who was bleeding all over her shower to boot. 

_Still … hadn’t she been flirting earlier?,_ an annoying voice in her head asked. _So maybe there was a small chance …_

“But you numbskull treated her like a nurse,” she growled at herself as she suddenly remembered her lapse and wondered just how often that happened, and not just to Regina but all female doctors in this war — the few of them that were even there. Just like that her mind shifted into work mode as she suddenly came up with an idea for a story.

Emma finished her shower quickly and dried herself with an extra towel she found on a shelf by the door, carefully leaving out her side, simply pressing a smaller towel against it. When she realized that she didn’t have any fresh clothes to wear yet, she wrapped the towel around her body, happy that it was big enough to at least cover the essentials — barely — and left the bathroom, her mind busy thinking about the possible story she might have stumbled upon.

“So I had this idea,” she said as she stepped into the room, her eyes rising up to look for Regina. “What would you say if—“ Her eyes fell on a wide expanse of skin, an olive-toned back presented to her, Regina obviously in the middle of changing her clothes. “… if I … wrote a ... piece …” Emma’s voice trailed off as her brain fizzled and popped, then stopped working entirely.

Regina turned around, a scrub top pressed to her chest. “Miss Swan, oh,” she said softly. “I … Sorry, I have a change of clothes here for you.” She pointed at the desk. "You showered faster than I thought you would. Obviously, I mean." Regina realized that she was babbling, nervous for some reason, but she couldn't seem to help herself. "I thought I had time to change and bring you those … scrubs. Once I returned. I just wanted to …” she stopped and shrugged, her head pointing towards the fresh scrub top she had been putting on when Emma had interrupted her.

Emma nodded dumbly but didn’t move, didn't listen, too busy trying not to stare at Regina’s toned arms and exposed shoulders, and failing miserably. 

Regina took a step towards the desk but stopped and raised an eyebrow at the look on Emma’s face, surprised to see the open expression of desire written all over her features despite the bleeding wound in her side. _How can this be?_ she wondered even as she felt an answering pull in her lower abdomen. It would be so wonderful, so _easy_ , to give into what they were obviously both thinking about, and Regina instinctively took a step closer towards Emma, who also moved forward. 

But reality interrupted the moment quickly enough in the form of a knock on the door, which Regina hurried to answer, mixed feelings of relief and regret running through her body. _What was she thinking?_ She _couldn’t_ , not in her position. If anybody got wind of it, she’d be shamed and tossed out of the army, her entire career invalidated, and careers for female doctors in the army quite possibly thrown back a decade or two. She pulled the scrub top over her head and smoothed it down, motions jerky and uncoordinated, her brain lingering on thoughts of what could have been, then turned around to look at Emma once more before she opened the door. 

 

******

 

“What took you so long?” Marian asked even as she pushed into the room, her arms filled with supplies. She stopped when she caught sight of a still mostly undressed Emma who’d just managed to pull on the scrub pants Regina had brought her without screaming in pain as the movement pulled on her wound. Marian looked between the two women and smirked. “Looks like I interrupted something …”

“No, you most certainly did not,” Regina hissed. “Miss Swan just took a shower, that’s all.”

“Easy, tiger.” Marian chuckled. “Just kidding.” She walked to the desk and dropped the medical supplies. “It’s not like I caught one of the wonder boys in here half-naked.”

Regina gaped at her and yelped, “What …?!?”

Marian frowned at the sharp reaction. “What’s _up_ with you, Regina? Why are you so jumpy?” She ran her hand down her friend’s arm. “I was just trying to lighten the mood a little.” But now that Regina had reacted so entirely out of character, Marian looked back and forth between her friend and the reporter once more, a tiny kernel of something niggling at the back of her head. She’d have to ask Regina about the tension in the room but right now there were more important things at hand. “Want me to give you a hand with whatever’s bleeding through that towel over there? Looks bad.”

Regina took a deep breath to calm herself down. If Marian had noticed the tension in her body, it could be obvious to other people as well. Better to get Marian out of here. “Nah, it’s fine,” she said airily. “I can manage a few stitches, even as a doctor.” A smile, almost unforced. “You should get back to the other patients. You know we can’t trust—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Marian interrupted. “Can’t trust either of those jerks, I know. Still don’t know what they’re doing here, to be honest. I swear they thought this was a tropical resort complete with fruity cocktails and nice-looking ladies, and not a war zone …” 

Emma’s ears pricked at the bitterness barely hidden within those words and her idea began to take even deeper root. Before she could ask the nurse about the male doctors on staff, however, the door fell closed behind her. Making a mental note to find her later, Emma grabbed the scrub top and pulled it over her head, lips firmly pressed together against the pain. In the end she only managed to pull it over one arm and her head, which was better than nothing.

Regina straightened her scrubs as she walked over to the desk and the medical supplies. She sorted through what Marian had brought before pulling on a pair of gloves and picking out what she needed first because Marian had most definitely been right about one thing: Emma Swan was in need of some medical attention.

“Why don’t you come over here and sit down?” she asked Emma over her shoulder. “Before you decorate my floor with even more of your blood. You do realize you only have a limited supply, don’t you?” _If in doubt, try levity …_

Emma looked down and saw that there was indeed a small puddle of blood, and the small towel she had been using looked pretty bloody by now as well. With a wince, she pushed her bath towel onto it and started wiping it away with her bare foot while pressing the scrub top to her chest to cover up.

“Miss Swan,” Regina sighed when she saw the movement from the corner of her eye. “Stop stalling and come here.”

Her tone brooked no argument and Emma’s side was hurting pretty badly now, so she trudged over and gingerly sank down in Regina’s chair once more, scrub still pressed to her front. “Is this okay?”

Regina nodded. “Unless you’d prefer to lie down,” she murmured. She pulled over a small but sturdy stool and sat down, her eyes now more level with the gash in Emma’s side. She pushed the scrub top out of the way and assessed the ragged wound quickly, judging where best to put the local anesthetic. 

“Oh, I would,” Emma whispered, chuckling nervously. “But not when you bring needles into play.”

Regina swallowed at the suggestive tone and looked up, if only to check she wasn't imagining things.

“Sorry,” Emma said, color rising up her cheeks. “I tend to say a lot of stupid things when I’m … nervous.”

“Scared of needles?” Regina asked knowingly, deciding that she must indeed have imagined the innuendo. She picked up a syringe and held it out of Emma’s sight.

“Needles, scalpels, hospitals, medication, you name it. Not really good with doctors in general …”

Regina laughed softly. “I’m afraid you’ll have to bear with me for a few more minutes, Miss Swan. At least until I have that hole in your side cleaned and stitched up. Then you can be free of me and get some rest.”

“I didn’t mean you … that …,” Emma swiftly replied. “I just … I was … oh, you know what I mean.”

“Not sure I do,” Regina said, only half teasing. “Take a deep breath and hold it,” she ordered quietly. “This might sting a little.” With that she quickly pushed the needle into a spot above the gash, then once more below to numb the whole area.

Emma hissed slightly but remained otherwise still. “That wasn’t so bad … yet,” she breathed out. 

Regina gently poked at the outside edge of the gash. “Can you feel this?”

What Emma _sensed_ was the nearness of Regina and the fingers that seemed to be dancing lightly over her skin, but it certainly was not uncomfortable. _At all._ It just reminded her — and did so with a clarity that almost made her choke — how long it had been since she had felt another person’s touch on her body, and all of a sudden she wanted nothing more than to feel this woman’s touch on her skin. Preferably without gloves or sharp instruments or needles but for now she’d have to make do with that. Emma knew it was fruitless but at least that feeling, that wish for touch, for human contact, gave her something to think about while Regina did what she had to do. “It’s fine,” she finally muttered softly, and if a soft sigh escaped afterwards, they both ignored it.

“All right then,” Regina smiled and started her work in earnest. “Tell me something about yourself,” she said quietly, both because she was curious and to give Emma something to distract herself with while she cleaned out the ragged gash and stitched it up from the inside out. The piece of shrapnel had cut deep, but not quite as deeply as Regina had feared at first glance. 

“Not much to tell,” Emma replied, maybe a little too quickly. She didn’t talk about herself — in fact she had become a reporter so that the focus was always on other people, not her.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Regina retorted calmly while recognizing the words as the kind of evasion she would have used as well. “I’m not looking for deep, dark secrets,” she continued casually, “but you could tell me why you became a reporter or what made you come to Vietnam, for example.”

“I want to tell interesting stories, I guess,” Emma murmured after a long pause. “Let people see what’s out there. And this war and the people here are what’s interesting right now.”

Regina listened as she kept working, hearing the words and those that weren’t said. “I think we all feel that other people’s stories are much more interesting than our own,” shefinally said, quietly and sincerely, “but rest assured, to me you are plenty interesting. Female war reporters are a rare breed.”

“Not as rare as female surgeons out here,” Emma replied. “Which brings me back to the idea I had in the shower …”

Regina chuckled. “Should I be worried?”

_Maybe if you knew the_ other _thoughts I had …_ “I don’t think so,” Emma said out loud, “but … I’d like to write a story about you.”

Regina stilled her hands and looked up. “You mean about the hospital?”

“No … I mean yes, that would be part of it, but about you in particular,” Emma clarified. “About the difficulties you face as a female surgeon in a man’s world, the fact that idiots like me mistake you for a nurse all the time, sexist colleagues …”

Regina was surprised. “I’m really nothing special,” she said, her eyes looking down again as she continued her work on Emma’s wound. “I’m just here to help people. And I don’t just mean our troops but also the people in the villages around here. That’s just the oath I took … nothing to write home about, so to speak.”

“I beg to differ. The fact that you think this is just part of the job doesn’t make you less interesting. On the contrary,” Emma insisted. “It’s a _good_ _story_. I’ve been embedded with the guys for a month now and they all have stories worth telling but the thing is … most of them have been told before. And I’m not saying I won’t be telling more of their stories too, especially after today, but this war is not just about our troops, their perspective — it’s also about people like you, people doing amazing things in unusual circumstances. And those stories shouldn’t get lost.”

“If you want an interesting story, a _good story_ , you should talk to the people around here,” Regina said. “Talk to Mrs. Hồng, for example, who can tell you about her village, what happened there, what keeps happening. She can tell you what her people are going through in this war, caught between a rock and a hard place.” Regina’s jaw clenched. “ _That_ is an interesting story.”

Emma hummed, intrigued. “I can do both.”

Regina looked up from her work. “Maybe you could.” She held eye contact for a moment longer before clearing her throat and going back to closing the gash. “Almost done,” she murmured after a short silence before covering the wound with gauze and a bandage. “You should try and sleep on your other side tonight, Miss Swan.”

“I can try but the left side is my usual falling-asleep side,” Emma said lightly. “Speaking of … am I going to have to bunk with the guys?”

“Only if you want to.” Regina looked up with a smile, her mind already made up. “I thought you really could sleep on the mattress here.” She pointed at her own makeshift bed in the corner. “It would grant you some privacy at least. We _do_ also have a small room for fema—”

“That mattress is fine with me,” Emma interrupted quickly. “Perfect even.” She gave Regina a tiny, crooked smile. “It does look large enough to fit both of—“

“Oh no,” Regina laughed, the sound an octave higher due to a sudden onset of nerves. “I’ll be making my rounds and then I’ll spend what’s left of the night in my room.”

“Oh,” Emma muttered, disappointment rippling through her at that thought. “I kinda thought this _was_ your room.”

“It’s my office,” Regina corrected softly, “and yes, I do sleep here most nights … but I do have an actual room in the building across the courtyard. Actually, I’m sharing a room with my friend Marian, the nurse you met earlier.”

“Well, since you’re used to sharing …” Emma tried to go for innocent, but her voice came out far too husky for that. “And I _would_ like to talk some more about—“

“You need to sleep and the painkillers and sedative I’ll be giving you in a moment will make sure that’s exactly what you’ll be doing the rest of the night.” Regina shot Emma down but it was with some reluctance. She was surprised how much she enjoyed the reporter’s company, the conversation, the friendly banter. With a shake of her head she admitted to herself that she _wanted_ to stay. “Well … maybe …”

“Maybe?” Emma asked. “ _Maybe_ you should stay to keep an eye on me? Make sure I don’t hurt myself?”

Regina gave her a small smile. “Well, I did promise that lovely young man I’d take good care of you …”

_Lovely? How lovely?_ Emma really liked Sean but right now she didn’t want to hear about him. “See, you basically have no choice.”

“Looks like it.” Regina stood, then slowly pulled Emma out of the chair. “Let’s get you dressed.”

“I’m not sure that’s going to work,” Emma replied. “I think I started out wrong earlier.”

Regina took a step back to survey the situation. “Yes, I agree,” she said briskly, her fingers tingling with the thought of seeing Emma naked. She _really_ needed to get a grip on that. “We need to get you out of it and start over.” 

Regina’s movements were gentle but economical as she pulled the top over Emma’s head, then off her right arm, her eyes firmly fixed on her own hands, never straying to Emma’s chest or face, but there was a slight blush on her face and she kept biting her lip. She missed the small hopeful grin on Emma’s face at that, the twinkle in her eyes that persisted despite the situation. 

“All right, stretch out your left arm as far as you can to the side,” Regina ordered, “but please stop before it really pulls on your side.”

Emma complied, her thoughts running wildly around her head. Should she tease Regina, maybe risk pointing out her behavior? But that would mean to risk her leaving and not coming back, so Emma bit her tongue no matter how difficult it was because having Regina so near, touching her, and being so obviously flustered was pulling at Emma’s every instinct to flirt, to cajole, to see where this could go. And she knew most definitely where she wanted it to go, and the longer she spent in Doctor Mills’ presence, the more she got the feeling that the other woman wasn’t entirely unresponsive to women’s charms.

While Emma’s thoughts were spiraling around her head, Regina couldn’t stop her eyes from straying, from moving over Emma’s torso like a caress, appreciating what she was seeing. When she realized what she was doing, she squeezed her eyes shut, only to open them again a second later, her eyes finding Emma’s. _Was that a knowing look?_ She closed her eyes against the sight. _She couldn’t be doing this, they couldn’t be doing this! She shouldn’t even be thinking this about a patient._

“It’s okay,” Emma whispered as if reading her mind. Her voice was soft without even a hint of teasing. “Look at me, Regina,” she coaxed. “It’s okay to look at me.”

Regina made a frustrated sound deep in the back of her throat. “It’s not,” she rasped. “You’re my patient … I shouldn’t …”

“What if I want you to?”

“Even then.” Regina almost moaned. “You’re a beautiful woman, Emma Swan, but I’m a woman in the military, and you have no idea what could happen to me if I … if we … and not just to me … all women in the Army could suffer …”

“Nobody’s going to find out if we’re not telling, Regina,” Emma whispered. “And I’m most definitely not telling, hell, I’m facing the same issues you are. But you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a long time, and all I’ve been thinking about since I got here was kissing you.”

“Emma …”

“Okay, at least mostly,” Emma teased. “Here’s the thing, Regina: I’m wildly attracted to you, and not just because you’re beautiful. You’re strong, intelligent, resilient, and your voice should be bottled and sold to make people happy. I want to kiss you and touch you, and I would love to sleep with you. I want you more than I have wanted anyone in a long, long time, hole in my side or not. And if you don’t stop me, I’m going to kiss you. Now.”

Regina’s heart thudded heavily in her chest as Emma inched closer. She wanted this, wanted it so much, but at the last moment, her hand shot up and pressed at Emma’s sternum, stopping her just a hair’s breadth from her lips. “We can’t,” Regina rasped, her lips almost touching Emma’s as she spoke. “Nothing can happen …”

Emma stilled but didn’t move away. “Regina,” she murmured softly, her lips unconsciously searching for contact. She moaned as her lips lightly brushed Regina’s with the first syllable of her name.

Regina echoed the sound, and there was an almost desperate tinge to it. Would it really be so wrong? It shouldn’t feel this right then, should it? Shouldn’t feel as if it was the only thing she could think about? 

“Dammit,” she finally growled before cupping Emma’s face in her hands and crashing their mouths together in a frantic kiss. Emma responded enthusiastically, her hands roving up, down, twitching, never staying in one spot on Regina body until finally curling into the back of her scrub top. 

Emma moaned as her brain shut off and her body responded to the kiss. She forgot about everything else, focusing only on the taste and feeling of Regina’s lips against her own. She ran her tongue over Regina’s lips and deepened the kiss when the other woman opened her mouth in an almost tortured groan. Emma felt arousal pool low in her belly at the sound and the feeling of Regina’s tongue against her own, and pressed herself even closer.

Regina’s head was swimming. She had forgotten how wonderful it felt to kiss another woman, to feel the smoothness, the soft lips. To kiss someone you were really attracted to. When Emma deepened the kiss she welcomed the sensation, her body responding instantly with a fire she hadn’t felt in far too long. She felt Emma’s hands clench against her back, one moving up, one down, felt herself being pulled hard into the firm body against her own. 

Heard the hiss that was born from pain, not pleasure, yanking her back to reality in an instant. Regina pulled away from Emma and held her at arms’ length, causing Emma to pout even though she had one hand pressed to her side. 

“Emma,” Regina said softly. “Let me take a look.”

“It’s nothing,” Emma insisted. “Just a —“

“Scratch, yeah, I know,” Regina chuckled. She gently removed Emma’s hand and peeled off the bandage on one side, glad to see that everything seemed to be okay. She covered the wound again and met Emma’s eyes. “Time for you to get some rest, I think.” She picked up the discarded scrub top from where it had fallen from her fingers at the beginning of their kiss, and began the task of putting it on Emma, this time starting from the left side. 

Reluctantly, Emma raised her right arm to help Regina slip it on, letting out a disappointed huff of breath when she realized that their moment had ended. Nonetheless, she decided to try again once she was dressed. “Can we go back to kissing now?”

Regina couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh at Emma’s persistence. “Like I said before: nothing is going to happen, Emma.”

“Tonight, you mean? Or ever again?”

Regina sighed. “Do you even know what you’re asking of me?” she asked after a moment, tone even and voice just above a whisper. “I mean _really_ know? You drop in here with your stunning looks and your beautiful eyes, and you’re trying to seduce me even with a gaping hole in your side …” 

She looked straight at Emma. “And what would happen then, Emma? What happens if I sleep with you tonight or tomorrow or the day after? You’re leaving as soon as you’re able to, and I’ll still be here, still one of the very few female doctors in the Army in this horrible war, and if even a hint of a rumor made it outside of this room, no matter how, my career and my life would be ruined. There is a _lot_ at stake here for me, Emma.”

Emma had trouble holding eye contact as the words washed over her. She knew Regina was right, she knew there was a risk but weren’t some things worth a risk? Nobody would ever have to know. And who said it would have to be over after a night or two? Yes, she’d probably have to leave but she could come back … or she could stay and make Regina and this hospital the focus of her story for the rest of her stint in Vietnam. “And what if I don’t go back to the jungle with the guys? What if I stay here?”

“Doing what?”

“Writing about this hospital, your struggles, the people living in this area,” Emma ticked the items off on her fingers. “Really tell the human story of this war, the ones the people at home don’t know a fucking thing about.”

Regina didn’t say anything, just regarded her with sad, guarded eyes.

“Why the hell did you even kiss me then?” Emma blurted when she couldn’t take the silence any longer.

At that, Regina’s face morphed into a self-deprecating half-grin. “Because you are a sexy, gorgeous, adorable idiot and … I couldn’t help myself,” she said. “Because despite everything I just said, everything my head _knows_ … I haven’t been this attracted to another person in forever, and for once I wanted to feel something that wasn’t pain or rage or helplessness, even if only for a few damn seconds.” Her eyes grew a shade darker, more vivid. “Because honestly? I want you just as much as you want me.”

Emma let out a long, disbelieving breath. “How can you expect me not to kiss you after that? Not to drag you over there and worship you for the rest of the night?”

Regina reached out to touch Emma’s side just above where she knew the bandage was. “This is how,” she whispered as Emma winced in anticipated pain even before Regina’s finger made contact. Regina ran her hand up to Emma’s shoulder and gently turned her towards the mattress. “Get some sleep, dear.”

“I’m fine,” Emma insisted, “and suddenly not all that tired, you know.”

“I know,” Regina said with a knowing smirk, “but I’m going to give you a shot now that will make sure that the pain won’t return once the local anesthesia wears off completely … and that you’ll sleep through the night.”

“Are you sure that’s necessary?”

“Absolutely.” Regina prepared the shots, then turned back to Emma. “Now these shots aren’t just going to ensure you’ll enjoy a restful, pain free night,” she explained as she led Emma to the make-shift bed. “They’ll also make sure that spending hours in the jungle with dirt caking your wounds won’t have any nasty side effects. It’s a lovely cocktail, better than anything served at any bar in Saigon.”

Emma hesitated before lowering herself to the mattress. Regina noticed. “Is there anything wrong?” she asked. “Anything I need to know about you and medication? Allergies? Bad reactions?”

Emma hesitated another second, then shook her head with a short, nervous laugh. “Nah, like I said, just don’t like needles much.”

“All right.” Regina studied Emma for another moment but her face was completely closed off for the first time since they had met, and Regina couldn’t really read anything in it. “If you’re sure …” 

Two minutes later, Emma was in bed, shots administered, resting on her right side, her back to Regina who was crouching by the side of the bed. Emma’s nose rubbed against the pillow, nuzzling sleepily into the faint smell of Regina, a sigh escaping her lips. “I really like you,” Emma mumbled, already more than half asleep.

Regina sat by her side for a moment longer, a small, sad smile on her face, until she was sure Emma was deeply asleep. She pulled the sheet up to cover her, then pressed a kiss against her head. “I like you, too,” she whispered.

With a sigh, Lt. Col. Regina Mills got to her feet and went into her bathroom to freshen up before making her rounds, wondering what else the night would bring.


	3. Conversations in the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter than the first two, and it is Regina-centric, although Emma is the main topic of the conversations going on. ;-)

Most of the patients were sleeping when Regina made her rounds, walking around the ward as Marian brought her up to speed in quick, precise whispers next to each bed, making notes of Regina’s instructions in the charts.

“Locke and Jones still finishing off that surgery?” Regina asked between beds.

“Even they managed to close up the patient quickly enough after you were done,” Marian replied with a shake of the head. "I guess they're either sleeping or in the bar or both."

Regina gave her a warning look. “Just because they’re new here—“

“—and misogynistic cave men,” Marian added under her breath.

The warning glare intensified although Regina did have to fight off a grin. Marian did have a point to a certain degree. “Be that as it may — and please tell me if either one of them is ever a real problem for you, okay? — Just the fact that they’re new here and … unaccustomed to the way things are run here doesn’t mean they’re bad surgeons They just don't have our experience yet.”

“They also don’t take this seriously enough,” Marian complained.

“They did a good job today,” Regina countered. She really wasn’t a big fan of either one of them but she had kept a close eye on them in this stressful situation, and they had both done their jobs, no matter how reluctant they might have been at being given orders by her.

“They did because it was all soldiers here today,” Marian insisted. “I’m not sure they’d have done the same if it had been local people.”

Regina sighed. She’d kept the local population away from the new doctors, giving them time to get used to a hospital in a war zone. Maybe that had been a bad idea. “I guess we’ll see what happens in that case soon enough.”

A small groan came from the bed closest to them. Regina looked up and saw that the patient, the young marine who had been worried about Emma before, was awake.

“Hello, Mr. Thomas,” Regina said, keeping her voice low. “You should be asleep.” She put her hand around his wrist, taking his pulse.

“How …” he croaked, before clearing his throat and reaching gratefully for the water Marian handed him. “How are the others?” he tried again.

“As well as can be expected under the circumstances,” Regina replied. It was true: none of the patients’ stats had deteriorated in the hour that Regina had needed to take care of Emma in her office. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” His reply came almost too quick to be believable. “Is Emma all right? You said she was around here somewhere?”

“Miss Swan will be fine,” Regina assured him, smiling inwardly at the obvious crush the young man had on the reporter. “She’ll be ready to go back into the field soon enough, although probably not with you. Most of you will be sent home.” 

Sean’s face relaxed a little but didn’t lose all of its tension, which told Regina quite a bit about his pain level. “I don’t think she should go back there,” the young man whispered, shaking his head slightly. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t pain that had him so tense. 

Marian rolled her eyes. “You think just because she’s a woman she can’t take it?”

Sean’s eyes wandered from Regina to Marian. “No,” he replied quietly. “I know she can take it. She was with us for a month, I know what she can and cannot do. She’s seen a lot of crap, and she didn’t even flinch.” He took a breath. “Doesn’t mean it’s good for her soul. None of this is good for any one of us, and _none_ of us should be out there. But she at least has a choice.”

“On that we can agree,” Marian said, patting his arm. “Unfortunately, we’re all duty-bound to be here, and I’m quite sure Miss Swan feels the same way.”

Regina was quiet, her mind on Emma and her injuries, and the frightening thought that next time she could be hurt far, far worse. That next time she could die. She swallowed hard as she had to resist the urge to run back to her office and possibly tie Emma Swan to the bed there for her own safety. Then again, Emma had suggested that she herself might be willing to switch the focus of her story. But did that mean she was willing not to be embedded with a unit any longer? And was anywhere else really safer given her job? In this war or any other? And why on earth was this even bothering her so much?

Regina shook her head, unaware of the strange look Marian was giving her. She had to snap out of these feelings, and quickly. Her attention went back to the patient before her, who seemed to be falling asleep, now that he’d had his worry assuaged. “Sleep, Mr, Thomas,” she ordered softly as his eyes were already closing again.

 

******

 

As they made their way off the ward and towards the nurses’ office, Regina could feel Marian’s eyes on her. “What?” she asked without looking at her friend.

“Mind telling me what’s going on with you?” Marian asked after checking that there was nobody around. “And that woman?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Regina muttered but her denial sounded weak to her own ears.

Predictably, Marian snorted and shook her head. “Sure you don’t, cariño.”

“Could we maybe not talk about this here?” Regina hissed.

“Are you saying I’m _right_?” Marian asked gleefully, switching to Spanish for more privacy. 

The look Regina shot her was murderous. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Marian shot Regina a wicked grin. 

“No, I don’t. Although there was this one time …” Regina trailed off with a knowing grin and saw Marian nod in response. When their eyes met, Regina turned serious. “Am I really that transparent? You know that … if any of this got out, I could lose everything.”

Marian pulled her into a hug. “I just know you very, very well, my friend,” she whispered. “But the tension between you and her back there in your office was so thick you could cut it with a knife.” She pulled back to look into Regina's eyes again. “I’m not sure if anyone else can see it as well but you might want to tone it down in the presence of the others.”

Regina sighed but nodded. “Only you and Mrs. Hồng have even seen Emma yet, let alone the two of us in the same room, and it’s not like anything’s happened …”

“No need to worry then. Mrs. Hồng loves you like her own daughter.” Marian smiled. “And please don't get me wrong: what I’m trying to say here is _go for it_ , if this is something that could make you happy even for just a moment in time. We spend our days and nights fighting death in what is surely one of the seven layers of hell, so whatever happiness you can grab? Take it!”

Regina snorted. “It’s not that easy. You know the rules as well a—”

“I said go for it,” Marian chuckled, “not do it in the middle of the ward in front of everyone. Unfortunately, some discretion is strongly advised.”

“Some?” Regina slapped her friend’s arm with a smirk, adding a soft, “I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t,” Marian countered. “You think too much anyway. Stop thinking, start feeling.” She turned Regina towards the door and gave her a playful shove. “Now go see how your patient is doing and for God’s sake get some sleep! I can’t even remember when the last time was you got some decent rest.”

Regina yawned just at hearing those words. “Thank you, Marian,” she said softly and leaned in to press a kiss to her friend’s cheek before turning. 

Regina’s mind was still mulling over Marian’s words when she entered her office and her eyes fell on the still form of Emma Swan, illuminated softly by the low light of her desk lamp. There was a tug in her belly at the sight, and she took a step towards the makeshift bed before she could stop herself. Just then, Emma shifted in her sleep, rubbing her face deeper into the pillow, the hand that was visible twitching slightly. The urge to curl up behind Emma to sleep was surprisingly hard to push down and Regina’s eyes went from Emma to her desk chair and back for a lot longer than they should have. 

In the end she let out a small sigh and walked over to her chair. It wouldn’t be the first time she had fallen asleep in it, her head resting on the desk, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time either. The other times, however, she hadn’t had her body pulling her somewhere else quite this hard, so she wondered if she was going to get any sleep at all. 

Resignedly, she muttered to herself, voice barely a whisper. “Maybe I should just try to get through this mountain of paperwork inst—“ 

The sudden, huge yawn interrupting her thought made her reconsider. With one last wistful look at her bed and the woman currently occupying it, she settled deeper into her chair and closed her eyes.

 

******

 

Regina jerked awake what felt only minutes after she had fallen asleep, still exhausted and slightly disoriented for a second until she realized where she was and why her neck ached. She had no idea what had woken her up until she heard a broken whimper, then a hoarse “No!”

“Emma,” Regina gasped, flying out of her seat, exhaustion and aches forgotten instantaneously in the face of her patient’s distress. The last thing Emma needed was to rip out her fresh stitches with the way she was starting to thrash around in her obvious nightmare.

Regina dropped to her knees next to Emma, hesitating only a second before resting one hand on her shoulders, and one on her hip, her thumbs immediately starting a soothing motion without a conscious thought. “Shhh,” she soothed in a low hum, pressing closer and closer when Emma seemed to respond to her presence. “You’re safe,” Regina murmured, “you’re in the hospital, you’re safe, you’re here with me.”

The writhing lessened the longer Regina whispered soothing nonsense, gently running her hands down Emma’s back and over her hip, calming the body under the thin blanket. She knew it was unlikely that Emma or anybody else would be able to wake her from whatever horrors were plaguing her mind due to the sedative she had been given, so Regina did her best to try and put Emma back into a deep sleep by giving her a sense of safety. She just wished that Emma had warned her that nightmares might be a possibility, so she could have found some other way to help her get the rest she needed.

When Emma had been breathing deeply and calmly for a good long while, Regina stopped her calming caress and gently pulled up the blanket. She dug out her small pen flashlight from the pocket of her scrub pants, trying not to jostle Emma too much. There was no blood on the scrubs, and when Regina pushed it up with just the tip of her finger, shining the small light underneath, she couldn’t see anything wrong either. She straightened the scrub, covered Emma again and put the flashlight back, all in slow motion.

Regina knew there wasn’t much else to do for her, so she tried to get up carefully, grunting a little at the way her reluctant body refused to obey after her legs had been curled in one position under her body for so long. She swore softly under her breath, sleep creeping up at her, the small space on the mattress next to Emma beckoning her to just uncoil, stretch, and rest. Shaking her head she pushed herself once more, managing to sit up halfway when a hand around her wrist stopped her movement. 

“No,” a rough voice rasped. “Sleep.”

Regina bit her lip. She had no idea if Emma was muttering in her sleep, simply reacting instinctively to the soothing presence next to her, or if she was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness but the temptation proved to much for her either way. Against her better judgment, Regina unfurled her legs — slowly and biting back a groan at the ache of it — and lay down, finally letting out a low moan at how good it felt to stretch out on a relatively soft surface.

Emma hummed next to her, seemingly content, fingers still curled around Regina’s wrist as she pulled her close.


	4. Rude Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI: there will be a short break in posting since I'll be traveling for the next three weeks and probably won't get around to either writing or posting what's already written (I'll be busy taking photos instead, sorry). There will be more after that short break, though.

The next time Regina woke up she found herself on her back, half covered in Emma Swan who was curled around her, one leg thrown over Regina’s. Regina arms held her in a loose embrace, one hand half tangled in a mane of blonde hair, the other cupping a firm ass cheek, fingertips dangerously close to where they really had no business being, no matter how incredibly _natural_ it felt.

With the morning light outside the window awareness started to creep in, and with it came worry about their intimate position and the way Emma was quite obviously resting at least partly on her injured side. Regina wondered how that was even possible but then realized that the bulk of Emma’s weight was resting on her and the arm Emma had curled under her body. Still, a part of her brain knew it wasn’t a good idea and for a second Regina doubted the amount of painkillers she had given Emma but the thought was fleeting and the comfortable feeling of simply being at rest and holding Emma this close was threatening to pull her back under.

Reluctantly, Regina forced her eyes open and began the slow process of extricating herself from Emma’s grasp without waking her up. 

“Hnnng,” came a muffled sound, and a huff of breath against her neck that had the hairs on Regina’s neck stand up. “Don’go.” Emma pressed closer, her thigh slipping between Regina’s, pressing against her.

_Oh God, I have to get out of here._ Regina swallowed hard. “I have to get up, Miss Swan,” she rasped, voice sleep-laden and low. “I have to check on my patients.”

“Check on me first,” Emma demanded sleepily, looking up from her perch on Regina’s shoulder, her eyes bright and more awake than she sounded. Then her face turned into a frown. “Ouch.”

“What is it?” It was amazing how quickly Regina could slip into doctor mode.

“My side stings,” Emma admitted with a minuscule shrug.

Regina couldn’t help but snort at that. “Well, lying on that side won’t have helped it, that’s for sure,” she admonished gently, her hand unconsciously moving up and down Emma’s back in a soothing caress. When she realized what she was doing, her hand stopped and she cleared her throat. “I don’t even know how that was possible for you without waking up every time you moved.”

Emma sighed, a lost look in her eyes. “I have a pretty high pain threshold,” she said, voice flat. “It’s a good thing to have sometimes.”

The look in her eyes and the emotionless tone told Regina a lot more than Emma probably wanted to share in that one sentence but she kept her eyes on Emma’s with an even gaze and simply nodded. But her hand started to move again, soothing, calming, a gentle up and down. “One more reason for me to get up,” she announced, even though it was the last thing she actually wanted. “Get you in a comfortable position, so I can check you out.”

“You can check me out anytime, Colonel,” Emma said, waggling her eyebrows and pressing her thigh a little harder against Regina, but Regina couldn’t tell if it was on purpose.

“Emma,” she said, meant as a warning but it came out like a plea instead. For what, Regina didn’t know. Instinctively, Emma pressed closer to her until their faces were only inches apart. They stared at each other, eyes searching, until Regina couldn’t take the tension any longer. “Emma,” she whispered again, even less of a warning now.

The sound of her name was the only invitation Emma needed. Even before the second syllable was out of Regina’s mouth, Emma had stretched to cover the final inch between them. Ignoring the stinging in her side, she caught Regina’s lips with her own, gently, carefully, still not entirely certain she was welcome even after the conversation they’d had before she had gone to sleep. 

Emma could feel the hesitation, could sense the still-lingering doubts, so she continued to lightly move her lips over Regina’s mouth, touching the bottom lip, the upper lip, pressing harder, then lightening her touch again. It took a minute but all of a sudden, Emma felt the tension leave Regina’s shoulders while her mouth began to engage with Emma’s, moving this way and that, pressure increasing and intensity ramping up to the level of their last kiss and more. 

When Emma lightly ran her tongue over the scar on Regina’s upper lip, Regina moaned and opened her mouth to let Emma in. The kiss deepened, tongues exploring gently at first, then ever more passionately until Regina tore herself away with a groaned, “Oh God.” She shook her head, biting her lip. “How are you doing this to me?”

Emma could only grin at the stunned look on Regina’s face and craned her neck to resume their kiss to make sure the look stayed there for a good long time. Before she could bridge the tiny gap between them, however, there was a knock on the door — an urgent one from the frantic sound of it — and Regina jumped away from Emma and to her feet in one remarkably quick and fluent movement given their situation. Only when she was standing upright could Emma see her wince as her muscles caught up to her brain, and the resulting flinch as she reached for the door. 

Emma flopped back against the pillow with a sigh and closed her eyes to shut out the world but her ears still strained to hear what was going on. Soon enough, however, she realized she couldn’t follow the hushed conversation that seemed to be in a mix of English and Vietnamese.

 

******

 

“Good morning, Chị Hồng,” Regina greeted her visitor, clearing her throat against the lingering huskiness. “Hello, Marian,” she added when her friend showed up as well. 

There was a deluge of rapid Vietnamese that Regina had a hard time understanding even the gist of, the urgency of which, however, explained the frantic knocking that had driven her from Emma’s arms and out of bed. Finally, Regina held up a hand. “Tôi xin lôi, Chị Hồng,” she said gently, aware of the older woman’s stress level. “Could you repeat that a little more slowly, so I can understand what’s going on?”

Mrs. Hồng gathered herself and took a deep breath. “The village,” she said. “It was attacked again last night. There are wounded.”

“I am so sorry, Chị Hồng,” Regina breathed, laying a comforting hand on Mrs. Hồng’s shoulder. “I’ll come with you.” She knew that Mrs. Hồng’s family was still in the village, especially her very old parents. “Just let me get dressed. I need a few minutes. Does the base know what’s going on?”

Mrs. Hồng nodded rapidly and bustled off, possibly to gather supplies and get ready. Regina turned around to get dressed when Marian’s hand on her arm stopped her. “Regina.” The tone held a warning. “You can’t just run off to the village,” she continued. “We’ve been over this. It’s not safe.”

“We _have_ to help them,” Regina replied as patiently as she could given they’d had the discussion before. “ _I_ have to help, Marian. You know they’re being attacked because of us, so it’s the least we could do.”

“Send the two idiots,” Marian demanded, fear making her snarkier than normal.

“Really, Marian? Apart from the fact that I really wouldn’t want to subject the villagers to that, you know it’s not possible. They don’t speak a word of the language, know nothing of the Montagnards or the issues at hand. No, I most definitely won’t be sending either one of them.”

“Okay,” Marian conceded the point. “But then I’ll go with you this time.”

“You can’t, Marian.” Regina’s voice was gentle. “One of us has to keep an eye on this place.”

Marian shook her head. “I don’t like this, Regina,” she muttered. “I don’t like any of this. Why don’t you take at least one of them? I’d feel better.”

Regina sighed. “I won’t have time to babysit Locke or Jones.”

“But maybe a field trip is exactly what they need to figure out the way things are here,” Marian continued to try and make her point. “Make them see what war is really like.”

“I’ve always gone out there alone, Marian,” Regina replied, tired and exasperated. “Why is that suddenly a problem?”

“It’s a problem because the village was attacked last night,” Marian hissed, trying not to shout in frustration. “And it was obviously more serious than the other times. What if the Vietcong are still there, huh? What if it’s an ambush, a trap?”

Regina snorted. “Even if that were the case —” she held up a hand to stop Marian from interrupting, “— and of course I think you could very well be right, neither Locke nor Jones will be of much help with their inexperience.”

Marian nodded reluctantly. “At least take more than the usual numbers of escorts, please? For me?” 

“I’ll see who’s available,” Regina agreed with a sigh. “But you know this is not exactly the highest priority to the brass.” 

“I’m not sure what’s going on,” Emma suddenly appeared next to Regina, looking at Marian and interrupting whatever she might have wanted to say. “But I’m more than willing to go with her wherever she’s going.”

Regina shot her a warning look. “You will be staying right here and rest, Miss Swan.”

“Oh, come on. It sounds like there might be a good story there,” Emma pressed her point. “You know I’m thinking of switching my focus to you and this hospital and the work you’re doing here, so this would be perfect.”

“She has a point, Regina,” Marian added softly. “If Miss Swan wants to shed some light on the situation of the people here, this could be a good opportunity.”

“In case either of you have forgotten, Miss Swan has a hole in her side from an ambush yesterday,” Regina ground out.

“I’m a fast healer,” Emma said with a shrug. “Besides, it’s just a—“

“Don’t even think of ending that sentence,” Regina groaned. 

“So that’s a yes? Great. I’ll get dressed then.” Emma bit her lip to stop herself from grinning at the stunned look on Regina’s and Marian’s faces. “Would either of you have a shirt to spare? I think I can salvage my pants …”

 

******

 

In the end, Emma wore an olive green shirt Marian gave her, which fit her loosely enough not to be an issue with her bandage. Regina still thought that Emma should remain at the hospital, so Emma had asked Marian to do a quick check of her wound and dress it for a day in the field. They had chatted amiably about nothing in particular but when Emma had tried to ask about Regina, Marian subtly returned to the subject of the story Emma was planning on going for now. That diversionary tactic at least gave Emma some background information on the village they were heading to, which should come in handy. 

At least she wouldn’t look completely inept in front of Regina, Emma mused as she grabbed her bag and checked her equipment. Her camera could use some cleaning and care but she had instinctively protected it with her body during the ambush, so it didn’t look too bad. Her two spare rolls of film were all still safe in their waterproof pouches in her bag, and they would have to do for the day. The rest of her equipment, including all the rolls of film she had brought, were still at the marine camp where she’d lived for the past month, or at least she hoped so. She had to see about getting her stuff back at some point …

“Ready to go?” Marian’s head peeked around the doorframe.

Emma tossed her bag over her shoulder and nodded. “Regina still pissed at me?” she asked quietly as she closed the door behind herself and walked down the stairs next to Marian.

Marian shrugged in reply. “I’d call it concerned,” she said. “You _should_ be in a bed resting, not gallivanting around in the jungle.”

“I doubt there will be any gallivanting going on,” Emma scoffed. “I promise to be careful, all right?”

Marian turned her head to give Emma a look. “It’s your life,” she said evenly. “But Regina … she cares about yo— … her patients, so try not to get into too much trouble.”

Marian’s almost-revelation was more than Emma had gotten out of her during their chat, and it felt good to have the _thing_ brewing between her and Regina validated by someone who knew Regina well, however obliquely it might have been. It made Emma wonder how much Marian knew about Regina, or how well they knew each other but she pushed the thought away for now to focus.

“I’ll do whatever Regina says,” Emma said seriously. “But this story is important to me, especially after what you told me, so I _have_ to go. But yeah, I’ll try not to get into too much trouble, and I’ll try to make sure she doesn’t get into trouble either.”

Marian just snorted. “Good luck with that.”


	5. Colonel Mills' biggest fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emma meets someone interesting and gets some information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from my vacation (and what a fantastic, exhilarating trip it was!) and trying to get back into a regular updating schedule.

Emma gritted her teeth when their truck hit another bump in the collection of muddy holes that made up the road to the village. They had been driving for about 30 minutes now — the road leading them through deserted fields and burned down patches of former forest — and had now reached an even smaller road that led them steadily uphill. The tree growth was thicker here, the surface of the road even muddier, and the going was slow. 

The driver swerved, and this time Emma couldn’t hold back the hiss that escaped her. Regina’s head immediately turned away from watching the stack of medical supplies stacked against the thin wall that separated them from the driver’s cabin. Her eyes wandered swiftly over Emma’s face and then down to her side but before she could say anything Emma grinned and shrugged her shoulder. “You told me so, right?” 

“Are you implying I’m enjoying that you’re in pain, Miss Swan?” 

“No … erm, not really?” Emma backpedaled quickly at the look of offended hurt in Regina’s eyes. “It would have been normal, though.”

“I’m a doctor, Emma,” Regina said quietly, or as quietly as she could and still be heard over the sound of their truck but maybe not by the soldiers sharing their space. “The day I enjoy seeing a patient in pain, I need to quit.”

“Patient, huh?”

Regina just rolled her eyes at her but Emma also saw her lips twitch in a barely there smile.

“We’re almost there, Ma’am,” their driver called out from the front seat a few minutes later. 

Emma looked up to try and see something out the back but all she could see was the jeep with the rest of their escort, the same green jungle covering the mountain, and the same muddy road but at least she could feel the truck coming to a full stop. Wondering what the protocol was, she turned to ask Regina but saw that she was in a low conversation with Mrs. Hồng and one of the men who had accompanied them.

“So, are we going in?” Emma asked when the conversation seemed to have come to a stop.

“Corporal Jackson and his men will go ahead and search the area before Mrs. Hồng and I will go and see what’s going on,” Regina explained. “Sergeant Long is going in with us just to be on the safe side.” Her expression made it clear that she didn’t think it was necessary. Sergeant Long snorted a little, obviously used to Regina’s way of handling things.

“What about—“

“You will wait here with Private Daniels.” Regina held up a hand to stop Emma’s inevitable protests. “This is non-negotiable, Miss Swan. This may be a humanitarian mission but it is also still a military one, and you will do as I say or Mr. Daniels will take you straight back to the base. Understood?”

“Yes, Colonel.” Emma huffed and gave a sarcastic salute, entirely unhappy with the way things were developing. She closed her eyes, silently stewing. She just hated having to follow orders and it showed.

“Miss Swan,” Regina’s voice whispered from a lot closer than before, and Emma opened her eyes in surprise to see that Mrs. Hồng and Sergeant Long were already standing outside, waiting a few yards away from the truck and looking anxious while doing so. The rest of the men were nowhere to be seen, so Emma assumed they were already on their way to the village up the road a bit. “Emma, I know you think it’s unfair, and I know you can handle yourself but we have no idea what’s going on here, not even Mrs. Hồng is certain.”

“But —“ A gentle hand on her arm stopped Emma but the determination in Regina’s eyes never wavered.

“I have neither the time nor any interest in arguing with you about this,” Regina said urgently, keeping her voice low. “I promise you’ll get your chance to talk to the people here and maybe even observe my work, if that is really what interests you. Give us fifteen minutes, thirty tops to see what’s going on. Go talk to Private Daniels in the meantime, he’s been to the village before and will be able to give you some more information.” Regina smiled softly. “He’s a very insightful young man, and I’m sure he’ll be a more than adequate replacement for my company.”

Emma sighed miserably but nodded. Regina squeezed her arm and left.

 

******

 

The village was quiet but Regina still felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand up as they made their way to the building Mrs. Hồng was leading them to. She could see Sergeant Long twitching too, hands clenched tightly on his gun, while Mrs. Hồng was hurrying them along, worry driving her towards where she assumed her family and the injured were. Despite the fact that Regina knew that their men had scouted ahead, she couldn’t shake the feeling she had.

The door of the building opened and an older man ran out and started speaking to Mrs. Hong in a hushed, urgent slew of words. 

Regina turned to Sergeant Long. “Any idea what’s going on?”

“He’s talking about the attack, that much I’m getting,” Long replied in a whisper, “but you know that their Jarai is a little different from my Khmer Jarai.”

“Yeah, I know,” Regina said. “I just can’t shake this … feeling.”

“Like we’re being watched?”

“Yeah.”

Mrs. Hồng sent the man back inside and turned to Regina and Sergeant Long. “Anh Tran says they came while people were sleeping,” she explained. “They did not find the radio and Anh Tran called the base as soon as they were gone.”

“How many are injured?” Regina asked.

“Many.” Mrs. Hồng pointed to the building behind her. “Everyone is in the community hall.”

“OK, let’s go.” Regina made for the door. Over her shoulder she addressed Long. “I guess we can let Daniels and Miss Swan know they can join us now, Sergeant.”

 

******

 

Emma climbed into the truck’s passenger seat. “So,” she started casually, “the doc said you know this village. What’s your name?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Private First Class Daniels, Ma’am.”

“Yeah, I know your last name, what’s your first name? I’m Emma Swan … call me Emma,” Emma said. 

“The name’s Henry Daniels, Ma’am.”

Emma rolled her eyes at the formality. “So you’re Mills’ usual escort when she leaves the hospital?”

The young man gave her a look, one eyebrow raised. “Sergeant Long and I often accompany Lt. Colonel Mills, yes,” he said after a moment and Emma felt strangely reprimanded by the way he stressed Regina’s rank. There was a lot of respect there, maybe even admiration. She wondered if he harbored a little crush on Regina because, frankly, who wouldn’t? 

“We volunteered when she asked. Sergeant Long speaks a version of the language these people speak, and I guess I’m just interested in the people here. Before I was drafted I was about to go to college … I want to go into anthropology.” He paused, then added in a low voice, “Or maybe become a writer.”

“Well, Henry, mind if I take some notes then?” Emma asked even as she was already pulling out her trusty moleskin. “I know that Lt. Colonel Mills speaks at least a little Vietnamese …”

“Her Vietnamese is actually pretty okay, or so Mrs. Hồng says,” Henry said with a nod. “But these people are Montagnards, Miss Swan,” he explained when Emma didn’t say anything else. “Mountain people. And this village is part of the Jarai … people, I’d call them, although Sergeant Long could probably explain that better than me.”

“Thought I’d told you to call me Emma.” There was a grin on her face as she made a few notes. “So Long’s Vietnamese American? That’s a tough thing to be these days.”

Henry shook his head. “No, but he’s Jarai.” It was his turn to grin at the confused expression on Emma’s face. “Many of the mountain people live on both sides of the border,” he explained. “Some in Vietnam, some in Cambodia. The jungle in the mountains doesn’t really care about borders, and neither do the people. Sergeant Long’s parents came to the States from Cambodia before he was born.”

Emma scribbled in her notebook. Why had she not thought about this kind of story before? But the answer to that came immediately: combat was what all the guys were reporting, and she thought that was were she had to be to be taken seriously as a war reporter, to write The Big Story about this war. But now that she’d met Regina and was delving a little deeper into this side of things, she felt certain that the story she was looking for was closer than ever.

“And these attacks?” she asked. “Do they happen often?”

“Define often,” Henry replied dryly. “These people only get targeted by the Vietcong because they’re helping _us_. The people in the villages around here aren’t fighters, they’re mostly defenseless, so even a single attack would be too often in my book. We are trying to help them in return but it’s still extremely hard on them. Unfortunately, things have been heating up in recent months.”

“Any idea why?” Emma saw him hesitate. “Come on, Henry. Anything?”

“Nothing concrete,” Henry finally shrugged. “But the relationship between the Army base and this particular village has been getting closer since …”

“Since?”

“Since M— Lt. Colonel Mills began taking an active interest in the well-being of these people.From what I’ve heard from Mrs. Hồng … before she came here, nobody really took the time to make sure these people had even basic medical care, you know? She has changed that in the months she’s been here because she cares so much about people. She doesn’t care about color or creed or which side somebody’s on.” Again, Emma could hear the respect and admiration in his voice. “And now some of the village people work at the hospital and on the base, and they have basically adopted her, and she them. Or something like that.”

“You sound like you’re Mills’ — oh, excuse me _Lt. Colonel Mills’_ — biggest fan,” Emma said with a smile.

The look on Henry’s face was unreadable. “Yeah, well …”

Before he could say anything else, the radio sitting between them crackled to life, and he grabbed it with something that looked a lot like relief to Emma.


	6. Just another day in the jungle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer to the end - at least I think we are (I've been known to be wrong about things like that). A big thank you to everyone who is reading this and commenting. Your words keep me going. :)

The community building was filled with what looked like most of the village. A lot of people were sitting on the floor, against the walls or on mats. The wounded were stretched out on tables in the middle of the room, still more were lying next to them on the floor. One man was even lying on the counter at the back of the room that was usually reserved for refreshments during village gatherings. 

In short, Regina thought as she walked through the door and took in the sight, the large hut was filled with more people than she had ever seen inside of it, and she _had_ been to a village festival a few weeks prior. 

She immediately walked over to assess the wounded while Mrs. Hồng started talking to a group of women standing near the counter. Regina quickly took stock of the injuries, mentally putting the people into a triage order, then started with the most serious. There were a few gunshot wounds but none of them were lethal, at least not under normal circumstances. Under these conditions, however, each one of them had the potential to turn problematic pretty quickly. 

From the corner of her eye, Regina could see PFC Daniels and Emma Swan entering the room and looking around. The young soldier made his way over to her side, always ready to help, always keeping an eye on her. He was such a good man, and she felt a twinge of sadness at the thought that he was running around in this jungle in a war that was threatening to drive every last shred of humanity out of all who entered it. Henry really shouldn’t be here.

“What can I do?” he asked quietly. 

Regina smiled. For now, Henry’s humanity was still beautifully intact. “You can keep an eye on Miss Swan for me,” she whispered. “Keep her out of trouble.”

Henry gave her a look that told her he wasn’t very impressed with that request but after a few seconds he nodded. “Very well, Ma’am.”

Regina shook her head with a grin. “How often do I have to tell you that there’s no need to call me that when we’re alone?”

“ _Sir_ doesn’t really fit you,” he said smartly, giving her a playful wink before heading over to Emma who was watching them both with great curiosity, her eyes not moving an inch away from Regina. When he saw the look, Henry turned back to Regina and muttered, “If you want me to stick to _her_ side, I’ll be right back over here in a New York minute.”

“She’s writing a story about the hospital and our work with the people here,” Regina explained as casually as she could.

“Yeah,” Henry muttered under his breath, but Regina still heard him. “I’m sure that’s what she’s doing here.”

Regina shook her head fondly and smiled, deciding to ignore his comment, not all that worried about what Henry might have meant by it, before focusing back on her first patient. As if on cue, Mrs. Hồng appeared at her side with the rest of their medical supplies, and the two of them set to work, assisted by other women of the village, Mrs. Hồng calmly and efficiently relaying Regina’s orders to them. Soon, all the injured had at least one person at their side, and Regina turned all her focus onto the man on the table before her and the ugly gunshot wound in his side.

And if her thoughts strayed to Emma and the wound in her side that could have been so much worse, she pushed it down and ignored it.

 

******

 

Emma started talking to the villagers with the help of Sergeant Long who was able to translate for her as well as filling in some of the background on the Jarai Henry and Marian hadn’t been able to provide. She was furiously scribbling down notes, the first outline of an article focusing on the Montagnards and their plight already forming in her head.

Part of her, however, was always quite aware of where Regina was and what she was doing. She had even tried to walk over and watch her work a little more closely but had been sent away unceremoniously with a short, “Go talk to the people who matter and let me do my job.”

But now Emma had talked to everyone who was willing and able, and she had enough material for at least one feature article, if not more if she put in more of the background information. Somehow, she decided, she would talk her editor into a multi-part series on people in the war, people who weren’t soldiers, that would culminate in an article on Regina and the hospital. 

Mostly Regina, probably. 

Definitely.

Emma’s eyes strayed from Regina who was currently bent over a man with a head wound and scanned the room. She stopped when her eyes fell on Henry’s slightly knowing, smirking face. Suddenly aware that she was painfully close to revealing more about herself — or worse, about Regina — than she should, she shrugged at him and pointed towards the door. “I’m going to look around outside for a bit, try and get a feel for the village.” 

It was as good an excuse as any to get away from the temptation of watching Regina or the scrutiny by the young soldier who apparently had decided to stick to her side like white on rice. She caught the moment of silent communication across the room between Henry and Regina, before he turned to Emma with a nod and walked ahead, holding the door open for her. Emma rolled her eyes and had no choice but to follow. As she stomped out the door slightly annoyed, she missed the small smile on Regina’s face and the playful salute Henry sent in the direction of the surgeon.

“Let me guess: you’re on babysitting detail?” Emma asked with a huff when the door was closed behind them and they were outside.

“Just making sure you don’t get into any trouble,” Henry replied.

“Sorry, Kid, trouble’s my middle name.”

He gave her a long look, and Emma wondered if he’d been insulted by the nickname, and he finally grimaced. “Just stick to Henry, will you? _Kid_ makes me feel like a little boy again.”

“How old are you, Ki—Henry?”

“Turned nineteen a few months ago,” he replied. “Too young to vote or drink but old enough to fight, kill, and die.”

Emma wished she had a drink in her hand so she could toast to that. “I may have to steal that line for one of my articles.”

Henry laughed. “No way, that’s going in my great American novel.” There was a healthy dose of self-deprecation in his tone but for some reason Emma had no doubt that he’d do it.

“I hope to read it one day.” She sat down on the steps leading up to the door. “Is Doctor Mills going to make it into your great big novel?” At Henry’s questioning look, she added. “Because I _am_ going to write about her, novel or not. Just warning you.”

“Nah,” Henry said with a grin. “You can have her.”

Emma almost choked on her next breath. “Good,” she wheezed, hoping to hell the young man hadn’t meant it the way she understood it. 

They sat together in silence for a few moments until Emma noticed that it seemed almost too quiet. “Do you hear that?” she murmured.

“Hear what?” Henry whispered back. “All I can hear is … oh.” The realization was visible on his face. He looked around the village without moving his head too much, searching for something. “It’s way too quiet to be normal,” he hissed, “and the rest of our guys are not where they should be.”

“I was wondering about that,” Emma admitted.

“Damn,” Henry whispered. “I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted.”

“It’s probably my fault,” Emma conceded. “Like I said, trouble seems to find me. What do we do?”

“Head back inside, warn the others,” Henry decided. “But casually, all right? We’re just going about our business, okay?”

“Just another day in the jungle,” Emma agreed and slowly got to her feet. 

Together they walked up the three steps and opened the door, closing it quickly behind themselves. Regina looked over at their entrance and could tell immediately that something was wrong. Her eyes met Henry’s first, then Emma’s across the room, and Emma’s quick shake of her head only intensified the feeling. Finishing off the last of the stitches to close her patient’s head wound — left behind when he had been hit by the butt of a rifle — she gestured for one of the village women to bandage the wound and walked over to where Emma, Henry, and Sergeant Long were talking in a corner.

“What’s going on?” she asked in a whisper.

“They’re back,” Henry replied. “Jackson and the others are gone, locked up somewhere or …”

Regina nodded, not needing to hear the words. “What do you propose, Sergeant?” At Long’s surprised look, she continued, “I know I outrank you, Long, but you’re the one with combat experience, and I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t let you tell me how to run a hospital either.”

“Very well, Ma’am,” Sergeant Long replied with a short salute to acknowledge her rank. “I think we should evacuate through the tunnels, get everyone to safety, then wait for a pick up.”

“Tunnels?” Emma asked.

Regina immediately shook her head. “That’s not feasible. Many of the wounded won’t be able to make it down the ladder, let alone through the tunnels, and I most definitely won’t leave until they’re all safe.” She thought for a moment. “Send those who can do it through the tunnels, with PFC Daniels and Miss Swan. They should take Mrs. Hồng with them as well, she’ll be of great help. The two of us will stay here with the rest of the wounded.”

“Oh hell no,” Emma hissed. “I’m not—“

“No,” Henry said at the same time.

“Careful, Daniels,” Sergeant Long warned. “You’re damn close to insubordination.”

“Insub—“ Henry sputtered. “What the hell?”

“Daniels!”

“Somebody needs to keep the villagers safe in the tunn—“

Henry took a breath. “We actually can’t,” he interrupted Regina calmly but firmly. “I’m pretty sure they saw us outside, so if they storm in here and only find you two with the wounded, they’ll know that there’s a means of escape and—“

“And we can’t give that away,” Regina finished for him, a mournful look on her face, resignation coloring her tone. “I really hate to say it but Henry is right.”

Sergeant Long nodded grimly. “We send everyone who is able enough through the tunnels with Mrs. Hồng,” he decided. “The rest will stay here with us and we’ll try to keep everyone safe as best we can.” He exhaled slowly as he patted his gun. If the enemy really put any effort into storming the building, they didn’t stand much of a chance. “Daniels, radio the base for assistance.”

“I wish I could, Sir,” Henry replied with a grimace, “but Jackson has the Prick-25.”

“Dammit,” Long hissed. He looked at Regina. “The base will realize there’s something wrong when we don’t check in at the agreed 15-minute intervals.” He turned to Henry. “Any idea when the last check-in actually happened?”

Henry shook his head. “We went outside about fifteen minutes ago and Jackson and the other were nowhere in sight, which means that …” He checked his watch. “Worst case scenario, he made the check-in at the half-hour mark, which was twenty minutes ago.” 

“Best case scenario is Jackson couldn’t make that call, and back-up is already underway.” Sergeant Long met Regina’s eyes. “All right, we better get the walking wounded ready to evacuate.”


	7. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amid the chaos, Emma and Regina find a quiet moment to talk.

Emma watched as Regina and the others pushed at a table and moved a mat to reveal a a small metal handle inlaid in the otherwise unremarkable floorboards. Pulling the handle opened a hatch that revealed the tunnel leading to safety, although Emma wondered where exactly that could be in the middle of the goddamn jungle. Everyone who was able to walk calmly and quietly made their way down the rickety looking ladder, the expression on the villagers’ faces telling Emma more than enough about how often they had been faced with this kind of escape. She took a couple of quick photos, hoping to catch the mood in the slumped shoulders and the resigned shuffle but knowing she never really would be able to.

When almost everyone was in the tunnel, Emma saw Regina dragging Henry to the far corner of the room for what looked like a very serious conversation. Regina’s hands were on Henry’s shoulders, leaving Emma to wonder what was going on between the two of them. Henry was talking quietly but urgently, until Regina’s shoulders finally sagged, her chin dropping down to her chest. Emma itched to get closer, to know what was going on but she doubted that Regina would appreciate the intrusion into her privacy.

At that moment, Henry reached up to cup Regina’s face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away at tears that Emma couldn’t see but assumed were there. Something in her stomach clenched at the sight. There was devastation in Regina’s gaze and immense understanding on Henry’s but both expressions faded quickly when the hatch to the escape tunnel closed with a small thud. Henry’s hands dropped to his side, Regina took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, then both walked over to where Sergeant Long was securing the hatch and moving the mat over it to disguise it once more. Neither Regina nor Henry looked liked anything had happened and the ease with which they returned to normal only piqued Emma’s curiosity more.

Now, it seemed, there was nothing left to do but wait. Emma walked along the walls of the building, glad as hell that there weren’t any windows apart from a small one next to the door. The rest of the light came in through gaps between the walls and the roof, which sat on beams that were higher than the walls as if on stilts. It was impossible to look inside, and Emma wondered if the building had always been here or if it had been planned this way after the war had started. More questions to be asked, she mused.

“You okay?” Regina’s voice right next to hers pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Just thinking,” Emma replied with a shrug, turning around to face Regina.

Regina nodded almost absent-mindedly. After a moment’s pause, she said, “I would like to say something before all hell breaks loose. If I may? Just in case … I won’t get another chance?”

Intrigued, Emma nodded and followed along when Regina walked to a low bench sitting in the corner that was farthest away from everybody else. They sat down side by side.

“I’m sorry that you couldn’t leave with the others,” Regina began, sounding unusually tentative.

Emma had no idea where this was going and she had to restrain herself from shaking Regina to get her to continue. Instead she decided to go with levity. “That wasn’t what you needed to say, was it?”

Regina didn’t even react to the slightly teasing tone and simply shook her head. “No … but I would like to have seen you and Henry safe, so it sort of—“

“I know … “ Emma smiled. “But I wouldn’t have left anyway.”

Regina made an unhappy sound. “Yeah, Henry said the same thing.” There was an angry sound coming from deep within her throat. “I hate this war.”

Henry again. Never one to let opportunities go by, Emma seized the moment. “So what’s going on with you and the kid? Private Daniels?” She stared straight ahead, afraid of the reaction that might show on Regina’s face.

“Henry and me?” Regina sounded utterly confused. “What do you mean?” 

At that, Emma faced her again. “I saw you two talking just now, all serious and intense and …”

The question and the tone got Emma a raised eyebrow. “Are you telling me you’re jealous? Of Henry? Whatever made you think …? Oh my God, that is completely a—“

“I’m not _jealous_ ,” Emma hissed, a blush tingeing her cheeks. “Just … curious. Curse of the trade, you know. And you seem to know him pretty well but before that moment I never would have been able to tell, which tells me there’s a story there, and you know—“

“You’re always after a good story,” Regina chimed in. “Yeah, yeah, I know, although I thought you were a war correspondent and not a gossip columnist.”

Emma decided to ignore the mild snark. “So?”

“Do you ever stop prying long enough to wonder if your need to go after a story might be the reason why people don’t exactly volunteer to tell you things?” Regina asked quietly after a long pause. “That people have stories they might not _want_ to share? That some things are not meant for other people’s eyes and ears? Or a story?”

“All the time, as hard to believe as you might find it right now.” There was no hesitation. Of course Emma had those thoughts, knew that moment of doubt. “But I’d say I’m pretty conscious of what secrets can do to a person, so I’m also quite good at keeping them. Not everything I learn about people ends up in the articles I write. I will never mention where exactly this village is or reveal the faces of the villagers in the photos I’d use with any article. There’s a reason I shot them mostly from the back.” Emma paused. “I’m never going to say anything about your private life if … _when_ I write my article about you,” she said in barely a whisper, “… at least not without talking to you first.” Her eyes caught sight of Henry talking to Sergeant Long. “Please trust me on that. I know you don’t know me well enough yet but I swear you can trust me.”

Their eyes met for a long time, and Emma knew Regina was searching for sincerity, for the promised trust, and when she found what she was looking for — or so Emma hoped — Regina nodded.

“It’s so … cruel that we met here, now … such a damn waste …” Regina murmured softly. “Because under other circumstances, a different place, a different time …” Her eyes locked onto Emma’s who wouldn’t have been able to look away even if she’d wanted to. “I think I could easily have fallen in love with you.”

Emma’s heart stopped before resuming its duty in double-time. _That_ was the last thing she had expected to come out of Regina’s mouth. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “Was that the thing you wanted to tell me?”

Regina hummed, a low sound that echoed pleasantly in Emma’s abdomen. “And you thought there was something going on between Henry and me …” she continued with a grimace but Emma could have sworn there was an amused grin hidden underneath the apparent horror at the thought.

“Okay, so apparently _that_ is not the story there but I feel there’s—“

“Emma,” Regina interrupted before leaning in very closely to whisper straight into Emma’s ear, her lips grazing the sensitive skin causing Emma to almost miss the next words. “Henry is my son.”

“What?! Really? I mean … what?” Emma reared away, her eyes darting from Regina to Henry and back. “How is that even possible? You’re not old enough to have a son his age.”

“I guess the jungle air is doing wonders for my complexion if you think I’m _that_ young …” There was definite amusement in Regina’s tone now. “I’ll take it as a compliment and I hope I’m not destroying some kind of illusion when I tell you that I am absolutely old enough to have a son Henry’s age …” She paused, biting her lower lip. “Although you’re right in a way: I adopted Henry when he was ten years old.”

“He’s a foster kid?” There was such softness to Emma’s question that Regina made a mental note about it, wondering if it tied in with something else she had been wondering about.

“He could have ended in the system, but no.” Regina smiled in the direction of her son. “My best friend and his wife died in a car crash, which Henry survived unscathed. It was a miracle really.” 

There was so much emotion in Regina’s voice that Emma instinctively reached out and took her hand. “Fortunately they had left behind a will and in it, they stipulated that Henry should be raised by me. I was his godmother before I became his mother.” Regina squeezed Emma’s hands. “It was a hard time but we muddled through.”

“He turned into a fine young man,” Emma said.

“That he did.”

“Why the secrecy though?” Emma asked. “I don’t get it …”

“I wanted him to go to Canada when he was drafted, you know,” Regina said softly, “but he is too damn honorable to do that.” She shrugged. “When he was posted on the base here by pure chance a few months after I had started here, we decided that it would be best not to let it be known, so as not to risk him or me being sent elsewhere. It was such a stroke of luck that I just didn’t want to risk it. I like having him close by, and he seems to like keeping an eye on me too.” She smiled.

“That’s why he volunteered for these missions to the village,” Emma said.

Regina nodded, and they sat quietly side by side for a while, pressed together from shoulder to thigh, holding hands. After a moment, Emma realized that she had begun to softly stroke Regina’s hand with her thumb, and when she looked up to see if Regina had noticed, she saw that Regina’s eyes were on their hands, too.

“Regina?” Emma’s question was barely above a whisper. When Regina looked up, Emma smiled and squeezed her hand, then laced their fingers together and squeezed. “I could fall in love with you, too.”

No ifs, whens, or buts.

They stared into each other’s eyes, understanding passing between them, and maybe even a little hope. Regina thought it was getting a little hard to breathe with Emma so near and yet so damn far away, so undeniably out of reach in this situation. The way Emma swallowed audibly as her eyes moved from Regina’s eyes to her lips and back indicated that she was feeling very much the same thing. 

So it was perhaps a good thing, Regina thought with some relief amidst the burst of fear, that the door sprang open at that moment and a number of well-armed men poured into the room, shouting orders in Vietnamese.


	8. Playing for time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina tries to play for time, Emma tries to be a reporter, and Henry tries to keep her from being stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and commenting on this fic. I apologize in advance if it's getting a little political every once in a while. For some reason plot happened and I followed along ...

Things happened quickly after that. Regina jumped up and ran over to where the remaining wounded were resting, taking up a protective position in front of them. Henry appeared at her side in an instant, gun raised until Regina put a hand on his arm and he lowered it again. Sergeant Long kept his gun trained on the men who were now pouring into the building but also lowered it when he realized they were using Jackson and the others as shields. 

Emma couldn’t understand what the intruders were saying but Regina walked towards them, hands raised in front of her body, the large red cross on the band around her arm displayed prominently. She began speaking to the man who seemed to be the leader while two of the Vietcong disarmed Long and Henry.

“We’re just here to help the wounded men and women of this village,” Regina said in Vietnamese.

“These people are helping _you_ to destroy our land.” He pointed to the wounded Montagnards. “They are traitors, they don’t deserve any help.”

“Everyone deserves help!”

“We have wounded too,” the man replied, “but I don’t see any of you Americans helping _them_. They die like dogs hiding in holes in the ground while you bomb our land and kill our people.”

“Where are your wounded?” Regina asked quickly, trying to bring his attention away from the villagers and his ranting. “I’m a doctor. I can help them.”

“You don’t really want to help us,” the man snarled. “You just want to know where we are hiding so your soldiers can come and kill us all.”

“Let me treat the wounded you brought here then,” Regina said, pointing at a man to the left of him who was bleeding through a makeshift, dirty bandage from a wound on his upper arm. “Allow me to help him.” She took a step forward, still careful, but her eyes were mostly on the injured man. “Are there more? Here in the village?”

While Regina continued to talk to the Vietcong leader Emma walked over to Henry. “Any idea what they’re talking about?” she whispered so low he had to strain to hear it. “What is your mom doing?”

If Henry was surprised she knew, he didn’t show it. “She’s trying to keep them calm, I think,” he replied. “Knowing her, she wants to treat the wounded man. If they agree, that should buy us some time.”

“And that is what we need most right now,” Emma breathed. 

She watched the scene as it unfolded, itching to take photos, to talk to the Vietcong. She slowly walked into a corner of the room, hoping to blend in with the shadows, so she could take some notes and maybe even sneak a photo or two while everyone was focused on Regina. Henry stayed close to his mother’s side.

Meanwhile, Regina had managed to talk the leader of the small group into letting her look at the injured man. She sat him down in a chair and cut through the bandage and the sleeve of his shirt underneath to see what she was dealing with. 

“How old is this wound?” she asked the man when she saw how red and inflamed it looked.

“We were in a firefight with the Americans yesterday morning,” the leader replied in his stead. “We have wounded but they have _dead_.”

“Nothing to be proud of,” Regina muttered in English.

“What was that?” the leader asked.

“I said I have to make sure it’s not infected too badly,” Regina lied smoothly. “It doesn’t look good.” Not a lie. Both entry and exit wound had an angry red ring around them, and she could see bits of splintered white bone peeking out. The man had to be in immense pain.

“Just make sure he can fight again,” the leader said. “We have a country to defend.”

Regina nodded with a small sigh. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t see his point but right now that was definitely not her first priority for this patient. “I’ll do what I can but it looks like the bullet broke off bits of his bone, so I’ll have to cut the arm open to repair the damage. A bandage alone won’t do any good.”

“No,” the leader replied. “No surgery.”

Regina turned to face the man, her face serious. Emma didn’t know what was going on but she felt the tension in the room, so she discreetly lifted her camera and took a shot, the shutter sound masked by a cough. 

“If he _doesn’t_ have surgery on his arm so I can repair the damage _properly_ ,” Regina explained slowly, “he’s going to lose it, and he won’t be able to fight at all. If you let me do the surgery, he will most likely get to keep his arm and he’ll be able to fight again in a few weeks.” Probably. Maybe. And in any case most definitely not what the army was paying her to do. 

There was some rapid back and forth between the wounded man and his leader — too fast for Regina to understand more than a couple of words — until the leader pushed one of the severely wounded Montagnards off a nearby table and gestured for his man to lie down on it. 

Regina hurried to help the elderly villager but the barrel of a gun in her face and a barked “Stop!” stilled her movement. Slowly she turned around, arms raised in front of her, but her eyes went to Henry who read the look and began to move towards the villager in measured, careful steps. 

Regina watched the leader whose eyes were moving from his man to Regina to Henry and back but stayed on Regina after a few moments, apparently deciding to let Henry help the villager. “Help him,” the leader said, pointing at his own man with his gun. “I don’t care about the _traitors_.” He spat the word with a snarl on his face. “They are a disgrace to our homeland. They are not even Vietnamese, they are—“

“Just trying to survive in this war,” Regina said quietly as she was beginning to clean the area around the wound. “I’m going to sedate your man, all right?” she quickly continued before the leader could get angry at her interruption. When he didn’t say anything, Regina turned to the man who was gritting his teeth in pain. “What’s your name?” she asked gently.

“Tran,” he said.

Regina patted his hand. “I’m going to help you, Tran,” she promised. “I’m going to give you something to put you to sleep and then I’m going to fix your arm. You won’t feel any pain. Okay?”

He nodded, his face relaxing a little, and for the first time Regina could see how young he was. “How old are you?” she asked, curious, as she prepared the syringe.

“Nineteen.”

“That’s very young to be fighting in this war,” Regina said as she injected him with enough anesthetic to knock him out for a good long while. “Just like our men,” she added softly, her thoughts inevitably turning to Henry. She sent a silent prayer to any gods out there that he would make it out of this alive. 

“Your men have no business here,” Tran mumbled, sleep already pulling at his thoughts. “We do.” Then he went quiet.

_Quite true_ , Regina thought. She checked to see if he was deeply enough under sedation, then began to work. 

 

******

 

Henry checked his watch as discreetly as he could to see how much time had passed. The seconds seemed to crawl and minutes turned into hours as he watched his mother work on the injured Vietcong. He felt for the man, just as he knew his mother did, neither of them caring much for the politics of nations and more about individual human beings that usually had little to no influence over the events they were thrown into. 

So what if communism spread through the world? Henry doubted it would ever make it to the United States with how focused everyone seemed to be with money and success, so why were they killing people a world away who were just trying to live their life the way they wanted to? Sometimes he wondered if his mother had been right when she wanted him to go to Canada to avoid the draft.

As slow as time was creeping along, it was still moving, and Henry knew that by now the base would be on alert and would have at least sent out a patrol. And once the patrol would find their trucks at the village edge but none of the men, they would send out for more men to investigate. It was only a matter of time and of staying alive until then. That meant trying to keep his mother out of trouble and — his eyes wandered over to Emma Swan who was trying to take another photo while faking a cough — making sure _nobody_ did anything stupid enough to get themselves killed.

He walked over and sat down next to Emma. “I’m really not sure you’re fooling anyone with those fake coughs, you know,” he whispered. “You’re lucky mom is keeping that guy busy.” His head motioned towards the leader. “A few photos aren’t really worth your life and believe me he won’t hesitate a second to hurt you.”

“I’m just doing my job,” Emma whispered back, making a few more notes. “This is what I came here to do. Besides, the film is almost full anyway.”

“I thought you came to the village to write about army doctor _Colonel Mills_ and the village people she helps?”

“And this is a _major_ part of that story,” Emma pointed out. “The plight of these people, Regina’s bravery in the face of the enemy … you know that, don’t you?”

Henry sighed but gave her a small nod. “I’m just worried you’re going to get yourself killed,” he said softly. “I don’t really want to have that on my conscience—“

“You’re not responsible for me, Kid …”

“… or my mom’s,” Henry continued as if she hadn’t spoken, and they both knew that this was what he’d been meaning to tell her from the beginning. “Try to not make the situation any harder for her than it already is, okay?”

Once again, Emma wondered how much insight Henry had, how observant he really was, how well he knew his mother. “I’ll try not to.”

“You better,” Henry murmured, “because if you get her killed with your damn antics I’m going to make sure it’s going to haunt you forever.”

His face told Emma all she needed to know about how serious he was. “Henry,” she breathed softly, “I’m not going to do anything to endanger your mother, I promise.” She paused. “She means a lot to me.”

Henry mustered her for a long moment. “You don’t even know her,” he finally said. “You just met her.”

Emma smiled fondly at Henry’s protectiveness. “Sometimes it’s not the length of time that matters,” she whispered. “I know we only met yesterday but I think we became … friends pretty quickly.”

“Friends.”

Emma nodded. “We’re in a similar situation, your mom and I,” she tried to explain without giving anything away. “And we already know each other well enough for her to tell me you’re her son.”

“I was wondering about that,” Henry huffed. “She normally doesn’t just share that information. I can’t believe she just told you …”

“Well …” Emma blushed. “It wasn’t just out of the blue,” she murmured. “I pretty much told her that I thought you had a crush on her … that’s why she told me, I think.”

“A crush?!?” Henry sputtered, his voice rising enough to draw the attention of Regina and the Vietcong leader. “What the hell, Emma?”

“Sorry?” Emma sort of apologized.

Before she could say anything else, she saw the Vietcong leader head towards them from the corner of her eyes. “Shit,” she hissed, as she tried to drop her notebook and camera into the bag at her feet without him noticing, which was pretty much impossible with the way he was beginning to eye her and Henry.

“Private Daniels!” Regina’s voice rang out, stopping the man and making him turn around to look at Regina. Emma quickly stuffed her things into the bag and pushed it beneath the bench she was sitting on and hiding it with her legs and feet as best she could.

“Yes, Ma’am!” Henry jumped up and took a few steps forward before stopping close to the Vietcong leader as if to ask for permission. 

“I could use your help with this patient,” Regina said, then repeated the words in Vietnamese.

Henry looked towards their captor who nodded after what felt like minutes. In a flash Henry was by Regina’s side. “What can I do?”

Regina gave him a tense smile. “Nothing much really,” she admitted. “I just wanted to draw his attention away from you and Emma and whatever she’s doing over there. I’d really prefer it if neither of you got killed today.”

“Emma, huh?” Henry couldn’t help the small smirk. “She says you’re friends.”

“Henry.” Regina let out a long breath. “Yes, _Emma_. And yes, we’re … friends.”

“Funny,” Henry mused under his breath, “she hesitated too when she said that. I wonder why …”

Regina fondly rolled her eyes, knowing full well that her son was too observant for his own good sometimes, and knew her far too well. Although they’d never really had that many secrets from each other, not that there had been all that many to keep, Regina thought. It wasn’t like she had much to hide with her private life being basically non-existent. Now, though … well, if they all survived there might just be something to tell. 

Regina shook herself and smiled at Henry. “Just make a show of keeping an eye on this young man’s pulse and his breathing, all right? And we’re taking extra time today.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”


	9. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end is near. ;-)

It became clear soon enough that even with slowing down everything she did to a crawl and doing everything extra thoroughly, the amount of time Regina could spend on repairing Tran’s arm was finite, and was rapidly coming to an end. Already, their captor was pacing around them impatiently, occasionally pointing his gun between Regina and her patient. And when the silent prodding hadn’t seemed to faze Regina, he’d resorted to asking her questions about what she was doing, questions which Regina had a hard time answering to his satisfaction, especially with her limited Vietnamese. 

Finally, Regina finished bandaging the wound and turned to face the Vietcong leader as she was pulling off her gloves. “I did as much as I could,” she said, “the rest is up to him and the care you can give him in your village … or wherever you are taking him from here.”

“Who says we are taking him anywhere? We could just stay here, take over this village. Kill all the traitors.”

Regina gave him a pointed look, then her eyes moved to the American soldiers in the room. 

There was a moment of quiet tension but then he relented. “He will be fine,” he said with a small smile, the first one Regina had seen on his face. It wasn’t friendly but it wasn’t full on evil either, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“He will,” she confirmed, although it hadn’t sounded like a question. “Listen, can you tell me your name, so talking is easier? My name is Regina.”

From the glare she received, Regina wondered if she’d overstepped but after another long moment, he gave a minuscule nod. “Just call me Linh.”

_How appropriate_ , Regina thought. “Cảm ơn bạn, Linh.”

“You think that’s his real name?” Emma asked from much closer than Regina thought she’d been, and she flinched slightly in surprise. Apparently, the reporter in Emma hadn’t been able to stay on the sideline any longer. Linh’s gun twitched for a second before he seemed to decide that it wasn’t worth it.

“No, I’m sure it’s not,” Regina replied to Emma. “It’s the Vietnamese word for soldier.”

“Ah, fitting.”

“Indeed.”

“Who is this woman?” Linh suddenly asked, his gun pointing at Emma. His voice was suspicious. “She is no nurse.”

Emma stared at the gun. “What’s going on?” she asked, unconsciously keeping her voice low and as unthreatening as possible. “Regina?”

“He wants to know who you are,” Regina replied. “Looks like he realized that you’re not part of the medical team. Any idea what to tell him?”

“Stop talking in English!” Linh bellowed.

“She wanted to know what you asked, and she doesn’t understand Vietnamese,” Regina explained calmly, even though she felt anything but calm inside. 

“Don’t tell him she’s a reporter,” Sergeant Long piped up from where he was sitting surrounded by the rest of the Vietcong. “He could see her as a valuable commodity.”

“And take her as a hostage?” Henry asked.

“How is that any different from the situation we’re in now?” Emma added. “Tell him—“

“I said stop!” Linh hissed, his gun moving between Emma, Long, and Regina. “Want me to shoot her?”

“Đưng!” Regina replied quickly. “She is a … writer.”

“A writer?” Linh asked, eyes shrewd. “A reporter? Newspaper?”

“No, no, no,” Regina vehemently shook her head. “Books! She writes books.”

“What is she writing about here in the jungle?” The suspicion in his voice was even more pronounced now.

“She’s writing a book about …” Regina paused, no idea what to say.

“She writes book about doctor,” Sergeant Long said loudly, his Vietnamese rough around the edges. When he saw Regina’s glare at his attempt to help, he mouthed a “sorry”. 

“She is writing a book about you?” Linh asked Regina, probably to clarify that he understood Long’s comment correctly. “Why?” Again, his face turned eager. “Are you important?”

“No, I’m definitely not important,” Regina denied immediately, shaking her head. “It’s just because … I’m a woman, which is unusual for Americans. Unusual enough to make her think it is worth writing about.” She tried to sound dismissive of the idea. “And she doesn’t just write about me, she also wants to write about the nurses and other women in the war.”

Linh nodded. “Yes, I only ever see American men fighting,” he said. “You are the first American woman I have seen in uniform.” His looked at Emma, his eyes taking her in slowly from head to toe. “I have not seen many American women.”

“Miss Swan is Canadian, actually,” Regina lied, hoping to offer some extra protection since Canada was not involved in the war. 

Lính shrugged, obviously not caring one bit. “ _Our_ women fight for our country,” he offered instead, sounding proud. “You will see.”

“What do you mean?” Regina didn’t like the sudden glint in his eyes. At all. “What will we see?”

Linh pointed his gun between her and Emma. “You women will come with us,” he said matter-of-factly. “You will take care of our wounded,” he told Regina, “and you can see what women are capable of when war calls for it,” he added to Emma. “Your men we don’t need.”

Emma had no idea what he was talking about but the fact that Regina hadn’t been able to completely hide her shock had her and Henry worried. “What’s going on?” both asked at the same time.

“He wants us to come with him.” 

“Like hell!” 

“Henry!”

“When you say us, what does that mean?” Emma asked.

“Just you and me,” Regina replied softly. “He wants me to take care of the wounded, and for you to see what women can do in this war.”

Emma looked confused. “Why does he think I need to see that?”

“I may have told him you’re a writer,” Regina admitted, “and that you’re writing a book about women in this war. It was the first thing I thought of that would explain your presence here.”

“Hm, that’s not a bad idea actually.” Emma nodded, her head already spinning the idea around. “I’m game.”

“You’re an _idiot_ ,” Regina hissed. “Do you have _any_ idea how dangerous that would be? As much as I’d love to help his people, I’m under no illusion about the fact that it would most likely be a one-way trip. Linh could never afford to let us leave because he knows that we’d _have_ to tell the army about their hiding spot whether we want to or not. At least I would have to.” She gave Emma a sad, crooked smile. “So you’re not going, Emma, not if I can help it.”

“You can’t go alone,” Emma countered calmly. 

“She’s right,” Henry added. “Tell him that I’m Emma’s assistant or something and that I’m coming with you instead.”

“No, you won’t.” Regina’s voice was adamant. “And if we could at all avoid it, I’d really prefer not having to go either because I’d like to survive this day as well. But if we can’t come up with something … anything … I don’t see a way out of it, not for me. But I will keep you safe if it’s the last damn thing I do!” Regina was suddenly breathless as the responsibility pressed down onto her chest like a ton of bricks. A deep breath, then another did little to alleviate the feeling but she soldiered on. “So, any ideas?” 

Silence.

Regina’s eyes went to Linh, amazed that he’d let them talk this long without interruption but she saw that he was talking to his own people and gesturing at Jackson and his patrol who were sitting in one corner of the room. “Come on, people, we’re running out of time here. Something’s going on.”

Henry’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Mo-Ma’am, Sergeant Long,” he whispered. “Don’t turn around but I’m pretty sure I just saw our men outside. Through the window.”

Regina fought the urge to turn around but Emma’s eyes inadvertently went to the small window next to the door. She saw the movement outside, slow and careful, mere shadows moving against the backdrop of the village. She wondered if Lính’s people were all inside here with them or if there were some of them spread throughout the village. If there were, however, she figured they’d have heard gunshots.

“We need a distraction,” Long whispered.

“What we need to do is act normally for starters,” Regina pointed out. “The last thing we need is to arouse their suspicion.”

While Regina and the others were talking, Emma was keeping one eye on Lính and his men, and when it looked like he was turning towards the door — and the window next to it — she jumped into action without much thought. Three long steps took her to her bag, one grab had her camera in her hand, a second one her notebook, and a few more steps had her right in the middle of the group of Vietcong, camera raised and ready, notebook under her arm. 

“Hey,” she said loudly, willing Lính to focus on her and not the approaching men outside.She shook the camera. “Smile for me, will ya! Can I get a quote?”

Lính turned away from the direction of the door to face Emma, raising his gun until it was practically poking her in the stomach. He snarled something in Vietnamese, which Emma blithely ignored, but she assumed it wasn’t anything nice anyway given the look on his face. Emma pressed the shutter. “Thank you, this one’s getting a special place in my archive.” 

“Emma!” Regina shouted. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Creating a distraction,” Emma muttered under her breath, not taking her eyes off Lính who seemed unsure what to do with the situation. From the corner of her eyes she saw Regina move towards her, presumably to intervene. “Stay there,” she said, pleaded really. “I’m trying to help.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed!” Regina was out of her mind with worry. Her eyes met Henry’s who also looked worried. Every bone in Regina’s body was pulling her towards where Emma was talking at Lính who seemed to get more and more angry with every passing second but Henry wrapped his arm securely around her shoulders. Then Regina saw Lính tense, just a fraction of a second before he moved. 

“Emma, watch out!” she yelled just as Lính jerked up his gun, hitting Emma in the side with the butt of it. Emma fell backwards to the floor with a short, sharp cry, her camera and notebook making dull sounds as they hit the floor next to her. Emma was barely down when Lính raised the gun again and pointed it at Emma’s defenseless body on the floor. 

Regina saw red. One second she was being held back by Henry, the next she was standing in between Lính and Emma, her hands raised in a gesture of pleading, of surrender. “Don’t, please,” she yelled desperately. “It’s enough.”

It took forever but finally Lính lowered his gun a minuscule amount which Regina took as an invitation to drop to her knees next to Emma and pull her into her lap. The wound in her side had been split open again by the hit from the gun and she was bleeding through the bandages and her shirt. Regina ran her hand over the side, blindly assessing the damage until she finally felt safe enough to let her eyes leave Lính’s and meet Emma’s.

“You idiot,” Regina muttered, pressing her hand to Emma’s side. She was dizzy from anger, adrenaline and relief that Emma had managed not to get killed. Yet. “Henry, my bag, please!” she said as calmly as she could amid a couple of deep breaths, hoping she’d be allowed to help Emma.

“Stop!” Lính yelled, his face red, and Regina could see that he was extremely close to snapping. 

_Okay, so apparently not._ Henry already had Regina’s emergency bag in his hands and looked ready to run over to her at the smallest sign but Regina shook her head.

Lính was muttering under his breath, his eyes moving wildly from Emma to Regina to Tran and back. His men surrounded him in a half circle, looking uncertain at this sudden development, with their leader’s behavior and the two women on the floor in their midst, but they all raised their guns, warily watching all Americans in the room with their backs to the door. 

Which was, in effect, exactly what she had wanted to accomplished, Emma thought as the door suddenly sprang open and American soldiers poured in, stunning Lính and his men enough for them to not immediately start shooting. By the time they were even thinking of turning around and starting to fight back, they were already disarmed and on the floor, and everyone let out a long, relieved sigh. 

Henry dropped the bag by Regina’s side as soon as it was safe to do so before helping to subdue the Vietcong. 

“See,” Emma said softly as Lính and his men were taken outside with their hands above their heads, guarded by the full contingent of American soldiers. “That’s exactly what I hoped would happen.” She winced as Regina lifted her shirt to look at her side. “Okay, I could have done without that,” she admitted. “It does sting a little bit.”

“You idiot,” Regina repeated gruffly, unable to voice any other thought, mostly because she was still a little overwhelmed by the worry she had felt when Emma had gone down. She could still hear the surprised grunt, the small sound of pain. Saw the way Lính was aiming for her head.

“You keep saying that,” Emma interrupted her dark thoughts, voice barely above a whisper, “but I think you need to come up with a new term of endearment for me.” She smiled despite the pain in her side. “Maybe you should call me savior instead … I mean I did help save—“

Regina shook her head in disbelief. “What on earth am I going to do with you?” 

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Emma turned her head so she could catch Regina’s eyes. “Because if it’s not I have a few ideas … although we should probably revisit that when we’re alone.”

“Shut up, you—“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Idiot.” Emma closed her eyes with a smile at the shakiness and worry in Regina’s voice. She felt a short prick in her side and then the pain was gone as suddenly as it had come when Lính had hit her. She had to admit that it had not been her best idea but if the result was that they all made it out alive, then she could deal with the fallout — and a worried and possibly slightly angry Regina. 

She was sure she could find a way. Damn scratch or not.


	10. Back on base

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it looks like I ... miscalculated somewhat, and there will be at least one more chapter after this one, plus an epilogue. (I like epilogues, sue me.) Apparently, the ladies wanted a bit more time and who am I to tell them no?
> 
> See if you can spot the Xena reference. :P
> 
> P.S. Sorry, this is a little late - a Black Unicorn got in the way ...

Emma awoke with a jerk. She grimaced immediately at the pain in her side, even before she noticed the man standing by her bedside holding her wrist. 

“Wha—?” Emma croaked, pulling back her hand. “Who are you?”

The man gave her a grin. “Oh, I see Sleeping Beauty is awake,” he drawled, and the way he looked at her made Emma’s skin crawl.

“I repeat, who the hell are you?” He hadn’t been there when they had come back but judging by the white coat she assumed he was another one of the doctors Marian had complained about the day before. _God, had it only been one day?_

“The name’s Jones,” the man replied, completely unperturbed by Emma’s tone. “Your doctor.”

“I don’t think so,” Emma hissed.

Jones shrugged as he finally let go of Emma’s wrist and made a note in a chart. “As you can see I’m the only doctor here at the moment, and to be quite honest, I’m the best doctor at this hospital anyway.” 

So this really _was_ one of the two sexist jerks Regina and Marian had been talking about. Now that she had met them — one when they had come in, and now this one — Emma had no idea how either of the two women didn’t go around beating them over the head with something blunt and heavy all day long. 

Emma closed her eyes, ignoring him, and focused on her breathing. Calm, steady breaths usually helped her through any pain she might be feeling and there was no way in hell she was telling that guy that her side was hurting. She didn’t trust him not to just knock her out, and that was the last thing she needed right now. 

Her thoughts went back to their trip to the Jarai village and how she had ended up in this bed, on this ward. Regina had probably been right in calling her an idiot, but she didn’t regret her actions, not for one second. It had given the rescue team the chance to storm the building and she was the only one who was injured, which was quite all right in her book. Better her than Regina or Henry, most definitely. It was the aftermath of the whole thing that was a little fuzzy in her mind. 

_Regina wanted choppers to come in and get the remaining wounded villagers and Emma but that wasn’t possible due to the location, which meant that the villagers had to be heavily sedated and strapped tightly to boards, then carried to the trucks the men had arrived in. Emma could see how much the thought of losing even one patient to the jostling of the jungle tracks was killing Regina and she sent up a rare prayer for the handful of elderly men and their survival._

_That left Emma, who insisted on walking to the trucks, leaning on Henry — as little as possible due to her pride — but at least entrusting him with her bag with the camera and notebook stuffed back inside. She’d have to see if the camera survived the fall, and more importantly if the film inside had been unharmed._

_She made it to the truck, biting her lips, gritting her teeth, breathing through the pain, but sitting on the truck for the ride back was hell. Regina saw it and leaned over. “I realize you most likely have a problem with anesthesia,” she started matter-of-factly. “Does it give you nightmares?”_

_Emma felt slightly embarrassed and put on the spot but she knew Regina was only trying to help. “They don’t give me nightmares so much as I can’t wake myself up from them the way I usually can.”_

_Regina nodded. “I understand … but you can’t sit like that all cramped up from the pain and make it through this ride.” She paused. “I would love to give you something that will knock you out, just to make this trip to the hospital easier — frankly, you need it — but now I—“_

_“I thought you used the last of the good stuff on the villagers,” Emma interrupted._

_“I did,” Regina replied with a small smile while rummaging in a small pack. “As I was trying to say … here’s what I am going to do: I‘m going to give you another shot to numb your whole side, and then I want you to chew on these leaves on the ride back. Chew them, swallow the juice, chew more.”_

_Emma took the handful of leaves Regina handed her and looked them over curiously — and a little suspiciously — while Regina prepared another shot for her side. “What is that?”_

_“A natural … calming agent,” Regina explained vaguely. “It’s not going to knock you out but it’s going to make you feel very relaxed and calm.” She watched as Emma sniffed the leaves. “They’re not dangerous, believe me. I learned about them in Papua, and they work.”_

_Emma stuffed a few leaves into her mouth with a shrug and started to chew, immediately making a face._

_Regina chuckled. “Yeah, the taste takes a little getting used to but trust me, okay?”_

_“I do.”_

The stuff had indeed relaxed her, so much so that she had almost fallen asleep on the truck, the pain in her side not even a distant worry. Emma thought she remembered leaning her head on a shoulder and closing her eyes, and she hoped to hell that it had been Regina she’d been leaning on but she really had no idea anymore.

None of which she would ever say out loud, especially not to the man still standing by her bed with a grin he probably considered charming. “Where’s Doctor Mills?” she asked instead.

“No idea,” Jones replied and Emma could see he was lying. “Probably getting her beauty sleep or something …”

Emma gaped at the blatant disrespect he was showing his superior — in everything, not just rank — in the presence of a patient. “Do you know who I am?”

“Well, the chart says Emma Swan,” Jones said easily. “New nurse? Adventurous tourist?”

“Do I look like a nurse to you?” Emma snorted. “I'm a reporter. I’m embedded with the unit that was brought in yesterday but now I’m considering writing a story about this hospital and the people it helps, both on the base and the surrounding villages.”

“Well, the hospital and its staff are part of the U.S. Army, which means our purpose is mainly to help wounded GIs,” Jones lectured. “I really don’t consider the villages part of our job, you know. For all we know, those people could be harboring Charlie fighters, so if you ask me we should just leave them alone.”

“The village today was clearly attacked by the Vietcong, not helping them,” Emma pointed out.

“That’s what they say,” Jones retorted. “Who knows what that was all about?”

“I know what it was about, I was there,” Emma reminded him.

Jones shrugged. “Anyway, if you’re writing a story about this hospital, we should spend more time together, so I can tell you everything you want to know.” He gave her another grin. “Besides, you won’t find better company here than me, so maybe we should have a few drinks when you’re feeling better? Get to know each other better?”

“Get out,” Emma growled. She really had enough of this guy.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” he wheedled. “I’m a doctor here and you’d be much better off being nice to me or you can forget about your story.”

“You heard the lady, Doctor Jones,” a voice from the door said. “Get out of here.”

“Nurse Navarro,” Jones greeted the newcomer through his teeth, then added with a sneer, “and Regina’s Charlie shadow.”

Marian and Mrs. Hồng walked up to Emma’s bed, both smiling. “Good to see you, Emma,” Marian greeted her, automatically reaching for her wrist to take her pulse.

“I already did that just a second ago,” Jones insisted.

“Why are you still here?” Marian asked him without looking up from her watch. “You know you have no business being in here.”

“I don’t see the harm in taking care of a patient,” he said but it did sound defensive.

“Hitting on me, he means,” Emma stage-whispered to Marian.

“Ba Hồng, would you please show him where the door is? He seems to have forgotten.”

Mrs. Hồng nodded and pointed Jones towards the door, touching his arm just slightly. 

“Don’t touch me, slant!” Jones snarled, pulling his arm away violently before finally heading out of the room, muttering under his breath.

Mrs. Hồng took the metal bedpan sitting at the foot of Emma’s bed and raised it over her head, clearly aiming for Jones. Before she could throw it, Marian reached for her arm. “Please don’t,” she said softly. “I know he’s an ass but both you _and_ Regina will get into trouble if you hit him.”

“That man is not an honorable person,” Mrs. Hồng said with finality as she lowered the bedpan and turned to Emma with a smile. “You are. Thank you for saving Doctor Mills and helping at the village.”

“Yeah, thanks for almost getting yourself killed and giving Regina a heart attack,” Marian added with a wink.

“So where _is_ Regina?” Emma asked. “I haven’t seen her since we got back here, whenever that was, and Jones said he had no idea.”

“It hasn’t been that long really,” Marian replied. “Regina is still in surgery trying to save the village elder who took a turn for the worse shortly after you guys made it back. She barely had time to take care of you, but she stitched you up before she left. You must have been pretty out of it, if you don’t remember that.”

“I do sort of remember it? But it’s … hazy. Whatever she gave me to chew on must have relaxed me _a lot_. Actually, it felt pretty good,” Emma said with a lazy smile. “I hope the elder makes it. Did everyone else make it out okay?”

“Everyone’s going to make it,” Marian assured her. “I think even your bag made it,” she added with grin. “Henry gave it to me to give to you. Seems you charmed the whole family.”

“You know?” _About everything?_ she added internally but the implication was probably pretty clear to Marian anyway.

“Emma, I’ve known Regina for longer than she’s _had_ Henry.” Marian leaned closer and whispered, “And yes, I also know that you like her … annnd I told Regina to go for it. So did she?”

Emma blushed but chose to ignore the question. “Why am I in this room, by the way? I was hoping I’d get to recuperate in Regina’s room again.”

“I bet you were.” Marian chuckled. “But since everyone saw you coming in with the other wounded that was out of the question.”

“Yeah, I guess that would be bad.”

“At least you have this ward to yourself.” Marian pointed at the empty beds. “Maybe we can even get Regina to take a nap on one of the free beds.”

“That means all the village women were fine?”

“All women are fine,” Mrs. Hồng replied. “They already have returned to the village to start cleaning up and take care of the lightly wounded among the men. Only the few badly injured remain here.” She gave a little bow. “I will go back now as well.”

Emma gave her a little wave as she was walking out the door, then focused on Marian. “So, everyone is okay?” she asked again. “Regina? Henry?”

“They’re both okay, don’t worry.” Marian patted her arm. “And I’m sure Regina will come see you as soon as she’s done.”

“Probably to call me an idiot again,” Emma remarked ruefully.

“From what I heard it wasn’t entirely undeserved,” Marian said with a raised eyebrow. “What were you thinking?”

“Not much, to be honest,” Emma replied with a shrug. “The thing is … I just wanted to give the guys a chance to storm the building without Reg— … without anyone getting hurt.”

“Except for you,” a voice came from the door. “Which was entirely unnecessary, by the way. Did you really have to antagonize Lính the way you did, Emma?”

“Regina.” 

Marian saw the beaming smile that broke out on Emma’s face and rolled her eyes with a fond smile. “That’s my cue to leave, I think,” she muttered. “I’ll be doing the rounds and keeping an eye on the wonder twins, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Regina agreed absent-mindedly, and Marian was sure she hadn’t really heard a word she’d said. She walked out and closed the door behind her, bemoaning the fact that the door couldn’t be locked.

Inside the room, Regina sat down on the bed and took Emma’s hand. “Hey, you,” she greeted with a small smile, wondering why her heart was hammering in her chest that hard just because Emma smiled back.

“No calling me an idiot?” Emma whispered with a crooked grin, her finger automatically curling around Regina’s.

Regina shook her head. “Not when all I’ve been thinking about for the past few hours is doing this.” 

She leaned in and caught Emma’s lips in a kiss that was equal parts fierce and tender, hopeful and desperate. Emma moaned, and Regina took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, her tongue exploring Emma’s mouth thoroughly, patiently, before drawing back and inviting Emma to reciprocate. Emma didn’t need more of an invitation to engage in some exploration of her own, making appreciative sounds in her throat that were answered by quiet moans coming from Regina.

When they finally parted, Regina ran her fingertips over Emma’s face. “God, I needed that,” she whispered. “You idiot.” Her tone and face were fond. 

Emma grinned unrepentantly, feeling light and happy despite the niggling pain in her side. “So did I.” She ran her hands through Regina’s hair. “Can you stay?”

“Here?” Regina shook her head. “But I’m going to break all the rules and won’t make you stay here either. If you’re feeling up to it, I’ll take you to my room, my actual _room_.” She grinned. “Then nobody else has to come here to check on you, you see, which will make Marian’s life so much easier. She’s on duty tonight.”

Emma returned the grin. “So you’re just being a good boss and friend?”

“Exactly.” Regina leaned in to kiss Emma once more, sweet and soft. “So, are you feeling up to a little sneaking around?”

“Absolutely.” Emma tossed the sheet away and made to stand up with enthusiasm when her side reminded her that she wasn’t quite as fit as she wished she were. “Ouch.”

“Careful, Miss Swan,” Regina cautioned. “Your side did not exactly improve upon impact with another object.”

“And neither did my ribs, it feels like,” Emma breathed, a hand pressed to her side. 

“You have a nice bruise covering your side on top of your flesh wound,” Regina explained, running a finger gently over the side in question causing goosebumps to break out over Emma’s skin. “But by some kind of miracle you managed not to get your ribs broken.”

“Doesn’t mean they don’t hurt,” Emma grumbled.

“In fact, bruised ribs can hurt more than broken ribs,” Regina said. She pressed a lingering kiss to Emma’s temple. “But you should be fine in a few weeks, and it won’t be nearly as bad in a few days. Unless, of course, you decide to risk your life again.”

“I guess you’ll have to find a way to keep me occupied, Doctor Mills,” Emma flirted with a grin. The pain in her side was not going to get in the way of _anything_ she could be doing with Regina. Still … “Can you do anything about the pain?”

“Why, Miss Swan?” Regina’s eyes twinkled. “Planning something?”

“We’ll see, I guess?” Emma spoke to the wall before shyly looking up again.

“Yes, we’ll see.” The words were non-committal but to Emma’s eyes the smile on Regina’s face was promising.


	11. Good Lovin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter but work is kicking my posterior at the moment and I barely have time (or the brain capacity) to sit down and write. 
> 
> This is the final chapter before the epilogue, though, so we're definitely at the end of our ride here.
> 
> Thank you all for staying with the story. :) 
> 
> P.S. The rating had to be changed for this chapter ... ;-)

They managed to make their way around the hospital unseen by anyone but Marian who gave them a little wave and a wink but to Emma’s surprise they didn’t walk into Regina’s office but kept on walking straight outside, across the courtyard and into a smaller building.

“Where are we … oh, wait,” Emma whispered. “Your actual _room_?”

“Yes,” Regina confirmed softly. “Mine and Marian’s. We have to be very quiet, though. The rest of the staff is sleeping in the other rooms.”

Emma nodded, although she wondered if that was going to be possible if the night went the way she wanted it to. She’d just have to hope for the best, right? “It’s a good thing Marian is working tonight,” she muttered under her breath, but she could see one corner of Regina’s mouth twitch in a small grin, meaning she’d heard her just fine.

A few seconds later Regina unlocked a door at the end of a long hallway and stepped aside to let Emma walk into the room before following her inside, then closing and — Emma noticed with a small smile — locking the door. 

Emma took a look around the room once Regina switched on the light. “So you really are sharing your room with Marian …” she remarked, pointing at the two beds. “I wasn’t sure if you were kidding about that, to be honest.”

“Why would I be kidding about that?”

“Shouldn’t you have your own room?” Emma asked with a small shrug. “You’re the chief medical officer here.” She paused. “I bet the two jerks don’t have to share.”

Regina cupped Emma’s face in her hands and gave her a small smile. “It was my choice, Emma,” she said softly. “I hardly ever use the bed in here anyway, and Marian is one of my oldest friends.” She gently traced Emma’s cheekbones with her thumbs. “Plus, this way I could make sure Mrs. Hồng has a room here as well. Her room is the one right next door.”

“Oh, I bet the brass loved that idea,” Emma snorted.

“They didn’t mind really,” Regina replied. “But Jones almost had a fit when he realized that a lowly, Vietnamese orderly also slept here sometimes when she didn’t go back to the village.”

Emma chuckled darkly at that. “Yeah, he’s a racist turd,” she muttered. “It’s a disgrace that you’re saddled with him.”

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” Regina said. “He’ll either quit in disgust one day soon or one of his little intrigues is going to play out and he’ll have me sent packing. Either way I’m—“

“His what?” Emma gasped.

“Oh, you know … the usual,” Regina huffed, strangely calm about what Emma assumed was a bad situation after having met the guy. “He has some friends higher up and keeps sending them reports about how bad things are here at the hospital but so far the brass here on the base back me up.”

“As they should,” Emma groused, her mind already on a new facet of the article she was planning in her head. It was going to be a whole damn series on how great the work here was, if she had any say in it.

“But enough about unpleasant men and their narrow-mindedness.” Regina patted Emma’s sternum. “How are you feeling?”

“With you standing this close to me? Pretty damn wonderful,” Emma replied honestly. 

Regina’s eye roll was playful. “You’re a charming one, aren’t you, Miss Swan?”

“Just saying it like it is.” Emma took a step forward, removing the few remaining inches between them. She touched her forehead to Regina’s and sighed as their bodies touched from head to toe. “You make me forget everything,” she murmured, brushing their noses together, before tilting her head and taking Regina’s mouth in a gentle but thorough kiss.

They kissed languidly, and with every second Regina could feel the tension falling off her shoulders, her neck, her soul, every cell in her body focusing on Emma and the feelings the woman stirred up inside her. Her hands wrapped themselves into Emma’s hair, tilting her head this way and that, pulling, stroking, clenching when Emma’s tongue traced an especially sensitive part of her mouth. There were moans, from her, from Emma, and the combination of it all made Regina more aroused than she’d been in quite a while, a different kind of tension building up in her body, a coil curling tighter and tighter in her lower abdomen until she had to wrench her mouth from Emma’s because it got way too intense.

She smiled at the frustrated growl coming from Emma and the way her eyes opened to reveal a somewhat dazed look. It was only then that she realized that Emma’s hands had found their way under her scrub top and were gripping and tracing, gripping and tracing the bare skin of her sides, her stomach, her lower back.

“Too much?” Emma rasped, taking deep breaths which had to hurt.

“Yes.” _Too much, yes, and also not enough._ “No.” Regina had to laugh. “Both, I guess.” 

Emma chuckled. “I know what you mean.” 

Her fingertips traced patterns on Regina’s stomach, tight little circles that grew and shrank, driving Regina crazy. It had been months since her last sexual encounter with someone other than herself, and years since there had been any kind of feeling behind it. And there definitely were feelings involved here, today. The kiss she bestowed upon Emma’s lips next spoke of those feelings, of the worry, the want, the desire. Emma gasped against her lips as she clearly received the message, and just like that the tension that had been broken by their laughter was back. 

Emma gripped the hem of Regina’s scrub top and met Regina’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

“No,” Regina replied truthfully. When Emma’s face fell, she quickly explained. “Not because I don’t want you … because my God do I want you,” she rambled, her fingers cupping Emma’s jaw, never still, always tracing. “I’m just … I’m just worried.” Her fingers unconsciously moved down to Emma’s side, ghosting over her injuries.

“About me?” Emma asked softly. “I’m fine, really. Never better and—“

“Not just about you,” Regina interrupted in a soft murmur.

“What then?”

Regina hesitated. “Remember what I told you in the village? That I could so easily fall in love with you?” Emma nodded and opened her mouth but Regina’s fingers moved against her lips to stop her. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “Those weren’t just empty words, you know,” she breathed into the small space between them. “And I don’t know what will happen if I let you in completely … and then …”

“And then I leave,” Emma said against Regina’s fingers. 

Regina nodded. “And just for the record, you’re not fine.”

Emma smiled reassuringly. “I understand, Regina,” she said. “I … I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’ll have to leave eventually … in a week, in a month, or in a year … nobody knows. But you won’t be here forever either. Your deployment will end and you’ll be sent back and even if you’re determined to stay here, this war will end sooner or later … and then we’ll both be back in our normal lives, back in the States, and maybe we can manage, you know …”

“Manage?” Regina croaked.

“Manage to stay in contact? To work towards … something?” Emma’s shoulders moved in a tiny shrug. “I don’t know what’s possible or not,” she continued. “Communicating would be hard, I guess … All I know is that I’ve never met a woman like you, have never felt so much so fast. Too much to just ignore it and move on. And even if we only have a day or a week or a month, wouldn’t it be better to enjoy it fully instead of denying us this because of the pain that might follow?”

Regina’s heart hammered inside her chest at those words. “You’re thinking of a future? Together?”

“Maybe?” Emma felt her face flush a little at the look in Regina’s eyes. “Aren’t you?”

Regina had no words, so she spoke in the only way she could right now. She grabbed Emma — possibly a little harder than she should given her injuries — and pulled her into a fierce kiss, her tongue pushing inside Emma’s mouth with more passion than finesse, but the way Emma moaned in reaction told her that her message came across just fine. Regina could feel herself falling, and she just hoped that the inevitable crash in the end wouldn’t hurt too much.

When they parted, they were both breathing hard but Emma was smiling. “So … are you sure?” she repeated with a small, hopeful smile.

Regina shook her head with a fond smile. “No,” she said but her hands wandered to the hem of Emma’s top and started pulling upwards with the utmost care. “But that doesn’t mean I want to stop.”

“Oh, thank God,” Emma breathed with a crooked grin. “Because I’m dying here. You’re driving me absolutely crazy.”

Regina chuckled, a sound so sexy that Emma’s insides clenched in response and she groaned. “Believe me, the feeling is entirely mutual.” She carefully pulled off Emma’s top and then looked her fill as if she were seeing her for the very first time, which in many ways she was. “You are gorgeous,” she breathed.

“If you ignore the bandages covering half my upper body, you mean,” Emma quipped with a snort. 

“No,” Regina replied, meeting Emma’s eyes, “I mean you are gorgeous. Period.”

Something in Regina’s eyes shut Emma up and made her look down, a faint blush covering her cheeks. “You’ve seen most of me before,” she mumbled.

“Not like this,” Regina whispered, “and I’m very much looking forward to discovering what I haven’t seen yet.”

Emma pulled at Regina’s scrubs. “I want to see you, too.”

“You will, don’t worry,” Regina promised with a smirk. “All in good time.”

They undressed each other slowly, teasingly, Regina always mindful of Emma’s injuries while Emma was impatient and couldn’t get to Regina’s skin fast enough. More than once she huffed in frustration when Regina slowed her down. Finally, they were both naked and lying on Regina’s single bed, and Emma had only winced once when her torso hit the mattress.

“I don’t think you should move too much,” Regina whispered against Emma’s collarbone. 

“But I want to touch you,” Emma whined.

“Why don’t you let me have my fun first and then we’ll see how you fare, okay?” Regina punctuated her not-really-a-question with a slow, deep kiss.

“I can’t think when you do that,” Emma murmured.

“Good.” 

Regina began a slow descent down Emma’s body, navigating around the bandages and the strapping around her ribcage. She nibbled and licked, working her way across Emma’s shoulders down to her breasts, always keeping one eye and ear on Emma’s reactions, good or bad. The groan when she bit on a stiff nipple and began to flick the very tip with her tongue was a good sound, she thought, so she continued with the other side.

Under her, Emma began to writhe in pleasure, both hands flying up to wrap themselves in Regina’s hair. Regina could feel Emma flinch and stopped what she was doing.

“No, don’t stop!” Emma panted.

“Don’t worry,” Regina said soothingly, sitting up a little. She gently took Emma’s left hand and pushed it to Emma’s side. “Let’s make a deal, though. You can do whatever you want with your right hand but the left stays where it is, okay?”

Emma gave her a sheepish grin, the only indication that raising the arm had actually hurt. “Will you continue if I say yes?”

“Oh yes,” Regina swore around a smile. “Try and stop me.”

“Not … a chance,” Emma gasped when Regina pinched her nipples as her mouth moved further down her body. A soft kiss was pressed to the bandage strapped around her ribs, another even softer kiss to her side.

“For healing,” Emma heard Regina whisper.

“If that’s not … going to help,” Emma rasped, “then I don’t know what will.”

At last Regina arrived where Emma wanted her so very desperately but to Emma’s disappointment, Regina skipped right over her damp curls and pressed kisses to the insides of her thighs, moving from one to the other.

“You smell so good,” Regina whispered against her skin. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

“Oh God, please do,” Emma urged, her arousal nearing fever pitch. “Please.”

The desperate note in Emma’s plea made Regina realize that however much she would love to tease her, she probably shouldn’t, given that Emma already had trouble keeping her upper body relatively immobile. 

“Don’t worry,” Regina soothed again, and this time she immediately made good on the implicit promise and ran her tongue once all along Emma’s folds and back again. Her tongue traced every delicate contour, her nose playfully bumping against Emma’s clit every so often until Emma was almost delirious with desire. “You’re so wet,” Regina murmured against Emma’s clit, the vibrations adding fuel to the fire.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Emma panted. “Please, please fuck me. I want to come so badly. I need to come.”

“As you wish.” With that, Regina pushed one finger inside Emma, swiftly adding a second when there was no resistance whatsoever. “Feels so good,” she moaned before wrapping her lips around Emma’s clit and sucking gently. 

“Jesus,” Emma swore. “You should … try being on my end.”

Regina looked up and met Emma’s eyes, her finger stilling for a moment. The sight of her wetness around Regina’s mouth almost made Emma come on the spot. “Believe me, I’m counting on that. At some point.”

Emma growled at the thought but before she could say anything, Regina had gone back to loving her so good, so thoroughly yet gently that Emma felt it in every cell of her body, making her forget anything she might have had to say. When Regina began to hum around her clit, it was all over for Emma who barely had time to untangle her right hand from Regina’s hair and grab a pillow to cover her mouth with before she howled her release, her left hand clenching in the sheets. Her side throbbed but the discomfort was drowned in the wave of euphoria rushing through her.

The sight and sounds drove Regina wild, her lower abdomen clenching tightly, and she almost came in sheer sympathy but it wasn’t quite enough. She pressed her thighs together in a vain attempt to get some much-needed friction but it really didn’t help. Desperate, she crawled up Emma’s body and wrenched the pillow away from her face to capture her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss while straddling her thigh and bearing down on it with a deep groan against Emma’s mouth. “Emma …”

“I know, I know,” Emma rasped between kisses, her breathing ragged. “You’re so wet, God … Regina …” She moaned, snaking her hand between their bodies. “Let me touch you.”

“Please,” Regina moaned, her movements becoming more frantic. “I n-need …”

Emma bent her knee and pushed her foot hard into the mattress, tightening her muscles and giving Regina more to work against. Her fingers rubbed circles around Regina’s clit in rhythm with Regina’s quick pace. “Tell me what you need, Regina.”

“Inside … inside,” Regina ordered immediately. She fisted her hands into the sheets next to Emma’s shoulders and lifted her lower body to make more room for Emma’s hand and to be able to push herself harder against Emma’s strong thigh. Her movements were jerky and accompanied by barely suppressed moans. “Please.”

Emma complied with the utmost pleasure, Regina’s responsiveness driving her own arousal back to the brink. “You’re so beautiful,” she moaned, wishing she could raise her upper body and get closer to Regina. “So hot, so wet. I want you so much.”

Regina’s reply was incoherent, all of her focused on the drive towards orgasm. It didn’t take long to get there. “I’m going t-to …” was all she got out before her entire body tensed, inadvertently pressing her thigh hard against Emma’s center and taking her with her over the edge once more.

“God, yes,” Emma groaned as watched Regina come hard, eyes squeezed shut, jaws clenched against the cries that wanted to erupt, her whole body rigid for one long, long moment before her arms started to tremble and her muscles unclenched and relaxed. Emma almost missed her own orgasm, so focused was she on Regina’s, but as her whole body shuddered once, twice before melting into the mattress, she let out a long moan.

Regina felt like her body was made of jelly, and she barely had the wherewithal to drop to the side, the space next to Emma just about wide enough for her body. Their lips found each other, caressing lazily, and they kissed languidly as their bodies enjoyed the aftershocks and the inevitable lassitude. 

“That was amazing,” Emma whispered against Regina’s mouth. “You are amazing.”

Regina hummed in agreement. “I haven’t felt like that in a long time,” she admitted. “You were perfect.”

“So were you,” Emma said softly.

They lay quietly for a while as their heart rate and breathing returned to normal and the sweat on their bodies started to cool them down. Emma took a deep breath and winced at the pain in her side. 

Regina patted her chest gently in response. “We should probably get some rest,” she murmured. “Especially you.”

“Wanna cuddle,” Emma mumbled, sounding adorably sleepy. 

Regina thought for a moment, then smiled. “We can,” she decided. She sat up to pull the thin sheet over them, then curled onto her side, her back to Emma. “I’ll be the little spoon, okay?”

Emma curled herself around Regina, enjoying the way her breasts pressed against the muscles of Regina’s naked back, and the way the pressure on her ribs and wound lessened immediately in this position. She purred and rubbed her nose in Regina’s hair before pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Perfect. Yeah.”

In seconds they were asleep, relaxed and peaceful for once in this trying time and place.

**The End**

*before the Epilogue


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it - the epilogue. A big thank you to all of you who read and commented. Comments are life! :)

**9 months later, New York City**

“… and so it is my honor to present the second _Annual Dickey Chapelle Award for Excellence in War Reporting by a Female Reporter_ tonight,” the smartly dressed woman on the dais announced with a smile. “We all know that female war correspondents have been around for close to a hundred years, but they’re still a rare breed. Many of us have gone out into the world to tell the stories of soldiers and civilians, victims and perpetrators, love and peace in times of war, and none of us have come back unscathed. Some have even lost their lives — including Dickey Chapelle, in whose honor this award was named.”

Like everyone else, Emma applauded enthusiastically at the mention of one of her personal heroes who had been killed in Vietnam in 1965, a loss still felt in the reporter community. Almost automatically, her gaze went to the empty seat to her right, where she had hoped Regina would be sitting tonight. Unfortunately, that wasn’t to be. 

Marian Navarro saw Emma’s look and leaned over the empty chair between them. “She’s going to be fine, Emma.”

Emma sighed. “It’s just … why did she have to get shot this close to the end of her deployment? Just two more days and she would have been in the clear and back home with Henry.” _With me_ , she didn’t add out loud. She forced a smile. “I’m glad you’re here though.”

Marian returned the small smile and gave her a nod — glad that she and Emma had become friends in the month since Marian had returned from Vietnam —, then Emma turned her focus back to the speaker. 

“… award goes to a woman who went to Vietnam as a reporter embedded in a patrol unit and returned to the States after three months and some serious injuries with a series of stories that captured the hearts of her readers. Her portrayal of the conflict in Vietnam through the eyes of the personnel of an Army hospital and a village of Montagnards made it clear that not everybody in Vietnam is an enemy — and that not all war heroes are male or soldiers. Some are doctors, too, or elderly Vietnamese orderlies.” 

There was some laughter and Emma and Marian smiled at each other, thinking of Mrs. Hồng and Regina.

“The series was riveting and has already been called a milestone in reporting of the war in Vietnam for providing a fresh perspective, so it is my sincere pleasure to present this award to the woman who wrote it: Emma Swan, _The New York Chronicle_.”

There was a huge ovation as Emma made her way to the front and up the few steps to accept the award. From the corner of her eye she saw Marian jump up, cheering wildly and beaming a brilliant smile, and Emma knew she was probably doing it to try and take the sting out of Regina’s absence.

“Thank you, Martha,” Emma said quietly as she received the little statuette from another one of her heroes. “It’s such an honor to meet you and to get this from you. Thank you so much,” she gushed.

“It truly is my pleasure, Emma. I loved your series.” With that, she took a couple of steps back, leaving Emma to enjoy the spotlight and to collect herself so she could say a few words. 

Words she had prepared and that now left her completely. She tried jump-starting her brain by clearing her throat but that didn’t really work, so Emma decided to just wing it and hope she wasn’t making a complete fool of herself. 

“Thank you all so much,” she began figuring that was as good a start as any. Then she grinned self-deprecatingly. “You know, I had this great speech prepared but I forgot it in my room upstairs,” she said, deciding that honesty was the way to go, “so please forgive me if I’m not as eloquent as you probably expect me to be after handing me this award for writing.” She grinned as she hoisted the award a little higher before setting it down on a table near the microphone. 

Then she became more serious. “There are a lot of people who I want … no _need_ to thank tonight, without whose help and sacrifice I wouldn’t be here tonight, not to receive the award, or even at all. I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for the brave men of the patrol unit I was embedded with when I first got to Vietnam. Many of them lost their lives when we were ambushed while on patrol, and if it weren’t for them — and most especially for Captain David Nolan who gave his life saving mine — I would be dead today. Thanks to them, I only got injured and landed in an Army hospital where I not only got the best care possible by the most dedicated doctor you can imagine but also got some very valuable insights into the war. Insights that directly led me to writing the series. It was at the hospital that I met many of the people I later wrote about: Mrs. Hồng, for example, who was always impressive in her dignity, her courage, and her fierce protectiveness of those she loved. Or Nurse Marian Navarro” — Emma pointed at Marian with a smile and a small bow — “who ceaselessly cared for her patients and who gave me my first lectures on the Montagnards and their history, information that proved to be very important.” 

Emma paused, her eyes scanning the room. “And of course that is where I met Lt. Col. Regina Mills, who is the first and so far only woman to have led an Army hospital in a war zone. Her humanity, her courage, her decency, and her will to help all the people in her reach, be it soldier or peasant, man, woman, or child, impressed me so much I just had to write it all down. I felt the need to share the struggles a female doctor faced in a war zone, not from just the situation itself but also from the outdated sexism of her subordinates. A struggle many of us in male-dominated fields can relate to.”

The crowd chuckled, and Emma could see nods and smiles at the first few tables she could see.

“I would have loved for you all to meet the doctor who saved me and so many other people in Vietnam but unfortunately, Doctor Mills can’t be here tonight. A couple of days before her deployment ended and her return to the States, she went back for a routine visit to the Jarai village, which was attacked — once again — while she was there. Doctor Mills was …” 

Emma paused and swallowed. “She was shot when she was trying to hide a handful of villagers. The small patrol she had with her were all killed and it was only thanks to Mrs. Hồng and the other villagers that Doctor Mills made it out alive.”

There were gasps in the audience and Emma looked up to see if it was in reaction to her words or something else. She saw that most of the audience was focused on her while some seemed to look to the back of the room. Afraid she was losing her audience after speaking so long, Emma cleared her throat and wrapped up her speech quickly.

The applause was deafening to her ears, and Emma smiled when she noticed that a few people were getting up from their seats for an ovation, others following suit. Emma smiled — happy to be done with the speech and to be out of the spotlight — and grabbed her award, lifting it once more with a grin. 

There were quite a few people between her and her table, however, all of them eager to talk to her, and none of them people Emma could afford to ignore, which meant she never made it more than a couple of steps before someone else stopped her. It took forever to make it to her table, and when she got there, she was exhilarated as well as tired of talking.

Marian gave her a smile that was both fond and, Emma thought, a little strange in an I-know-something-you-don’t kind of way. “Something up?” Emma asked with a mildly confused grin. “Was there something going on back there while I was talking?” She pointed at the back of the room which was just as empty and nondescript as any room dressed up for a function in any hotel she’d ever seen, even if this particular hotel was one of the nicest in New York City. “Or did I just talk too much?

Marian shook her head, still smiling. “There was nothing going on _here_ ,” she said softly, leaning in as close as she could with an empty seat between them. “But I’ve heard that there’s something going on in the ladies’ room on the second floor. Might be worth checking out …”

Emma just stared at Marian. “If you say so,” she replied slowly, utterly confused now.

When Emma made no move to take her generous hint, Marian rolled her eyes. “Emma,” she said, a little more insistent now. “Be a dear and get your butt to the ladies’ room one floor up.” She poked Emma in the side. “Now.” 

There was no arguing with that tone, so Emma got up and quickly excused herself from the table. Her hand reached for the award, but Marian shook her head. “You won’t need that.” When Emma hesitated, Marian chuckled and made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go! Believe me, you really want to be up there more than down here. I’ll keep an eye on your little statue here.” She smirked. “And if you don’t come back, I’ll take it to my room and keep it warm, don’t worry.”

“Why wouldn’t I come back?” Emma wondered aloud but her feet were already carrying her towards the door. Something in Marian’s tone had her heart hammering in her chest in anticipation, and as soon as she was out of the room, she broke into a run, down the corridor and up the unending flight of stairs, and down another corridor until she stood in front of the ladies’ room where she stopped abruptly. 

“Please, please, please,” she prayed under her breath, hoping against all odds. Then she opened the door and stepped inside.

The little anteroom — stylish and quiet as befitting a five-star hotel in the city — was empty and Emma felt a wave of disappointment roll through her body. But when the door behind her fell close, the door in front of her opened; and there, in all her dress uniformed glory, one arm in a sling and the other leaning heavily on a cane, stood Regina. “Hello, Emma.”

Emma breathed, taking in the sight before her. “You’re here,” she croaked finally, throat tight, “you’re really here.” 

Two long steps had her standing inches away from the woman she had missed and dreamed about ever since she had to leave her back in Vietnam. Her hands flew up, cupping Regina’s face and their mouths crashed together in the next second. The kiss held all the longing, the yearning, the missing of the past months, their mutual pining, Emma’s worry, Regina’s relief. After a few moments the pace slowed down, urgency receding, being replaced by love, their mutual passion rekindling, their lips and tongues expressing everything they needed to say in that moment. Regina moaned, Emma mirrored it, their feelings too strong to be contained. 

“God, I missed you so much,” Emma breathed into the small space between them when they parted. “I was so worried when Marian told me what happened.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear it from her but there was no way—“

“Shh, I know.” Emma brushed a lock of hair out of Regina’s face. “I know you couldn’t just call me. It helped that Marian was the one who told me, and that Henry called me when he came home.” She leaned in for another kiss, unable to stay away. “Why didn’t you come to the reception? Why meet me here?”

Regina smiled softly. “I did come in and caught some of your speech,” she admitted. “But seeing you up there after so many months … I realized we couldn’t risk meeting in public.” Her free arm patted Emma’s chest. “I really wasn’t sure I could keep it professional.”

Emma grinned. “Good choice, probably, because I really, really couldn’t have.” 

“I noticed.” Regina gave Emma a fond smile. “I was hoping you’d be happy to see me. It’s been a few months after all …”

“I’m _ecstatic_ to see you, Regina,” Emma reassured her gently. “I missed you like crazy, more and more every day, and the not knowing what was going on with you almost killed me.”

Communication had been as hard as they had expected. There had been the occasional letters but there wasn’t much they could say in them, not with the mail going through the Army. They had talked on the phone whenever Emma could come up with an official reason why she needed to talk to Regina about her continuing series but after that was done that reason had gone too.

“If it hadn’t been for the letters Marian brought with her when she returned to the States, I really would have gone crazy,” Emma admitted quietly. “I kept busy, you know, writing but …”

“Writing those letters was my way of keeping sane,” Regina husked. Love letters, and quite a few of them, letters which held her thoughts and dreams, letters that had her feelings for Emma poured into every word and sentence. She never could have entrusted those to the regular mail service, so Marian had slipped into the role of messenger, delivering the tightly-bound stack to Emma as soon as she could. “I never expected to actually fall in love in a war zone but … it happened.” Regina ran the fingers of her free hand over Emma’s face, tracing its lines and dimples. “I love you.”

“God, Regina,” Emma sighed at hearing those words spoken aloud for the first time. “I love you, too.”

“I had hope,” Regina smiled. “All the hope I needed to get well .. and back home.”

Emma pulled Regina closer again, just holding onto her. “Speaking of home,” she said after several minutes of just listening to Regina breathe against her. “Where will that be now? New deployment? New base? Are you going back to Vietnam?”

Regina shook her head against Emma’s shoulder. “After this last deployment and a certain _development_ in my life …” she swallowed, “… I decided to leave the Army and go back to a civilian life. I’ve spent enough years in the Army that they didn’t make a fuss about it, especially not given my recent injuries. My time as an officer will officially be over in a month, and once I’m healed I have a job at New York Presbyterian waiting for me. Apparently, they’re in need of a trauma specialist and my Army background convinced them that a woman is actually capable of doing that.”

Emma snorted at Regina’s dry tone but her happiness at the news far outweighed any anger she might have experienced on Regina’s behalf. “I can’t believe you’ll be here, In New York!”

“I take it you think this is good news?” 

“The best! So where are you staying for now?”

Regina took a small step back from Emma and pointed to the Army duffel bag by her feet. “I thought I could move into a hotel until I find an apartment or move in with Marian. We do have experien—”

“Or you could stay with me?” Emma interrupted quietly.

“… or I could stay with you,” Regina conceded, knowing it was what they both wanted. 

“Great,” Emma beamed. That gave her time to convince Regina that she didn’t actually need her own apartment. She pulled Regina back into her body, a little more enthusiastically than she should have judging from the wince that manifested on Regina’s face. Emma let go immediately. “Sorry. I guess I ‘ll be the one working around your injuries this time, hm?”

“Looks like it,” Regina mumbled. “I’m afraid I’m still a little restricted in what I can do, and will be for some time.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Emma grinned salaciously. “I can work around that. That, after all, is something _we_ have experience in.” She gently pressed Regina against the wall behind the door, careful not to hurt her this time, and leaned in for more kisses. Her left hand wrapped itself in Regina’s hair while her right hand moved along her body, trying to find a way under the tight uniform.

Regina indulged her for a few moments but then cleared her throat, gently disentangling herself from Emma, no matter how little she actually wanted to. “Not here,” she whispered when Emma let go of her with a pout, pointing at her uniform which was a little disheveled even after just those few moments with Emma. “Not in public … not while I’m still wearing this.”

Emma blushed, immediately contrite that she put Regina in this position. “Sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just that …”

“It’s all right, Emma.” Regina leaned in for a short, sweet kiss to make sure Emma understood that it really was okay. “Just … take me home?”

“God, yes,” Emma groaned. “But I can do you one better: I have a room upstairs for the night. Came with the award.”

“And you’re only telling me now?” Regina mock-complained. “Then I’ll amend my order.”

Emma grinned. “Oh?”

Regina hummed low in her throat in assent. “Take me to bed, Ms. Swan.”

**The end (for real now)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those among you interested in such things: Dickey Chappelle is real and was a well-known photo journalist and war correspondent from World War II to Vietnam. She was killed in Vietnam in 1965.
> 
> There's a cameo by a famous female war reporter in this chapter. Just because I could. :)

**Author's Note:**

> This story won't be like _The Storybrooke Connection_ where I explained a lot of things in the chapter notes. I think most things are self-explanatory (even the Vietnamese bits) but if you have questions, let me know.


End file.
